In no particular order at all.
|What decorates my outdoor bathroom wall |
which aren't really decor but my favorite baby shovels
|There is also a huge old trimaran in my yard that will never set sail again|
|All around her are boat bits and pieces, sinking into the ground. |
The links on this short chain are bigger than my hand.
We met up with Ann to decide where to put the traps, and that is when the afternoon began to take a turn for the exploring side; where I put down the camera to look and listen but now of course, wish I had captured at least a small token of the memories. Because despite our angst over Cretin being missing, we also did what we don't do often enough, touring around the back ways and by ways. I learned about mahogany seeds, which, frankly, resemble horse poop, in the individual bit look, but open up in thick woody skinned petal like pieces to release feathered seeds for the wind to carry. We don't have a lot of mahogany trees on Culebra; they are beautiful.
Up in the hills we looked at homes, some where we knew the owners, some not. We looked at the views and stopping to leave a trap (using a mahogany seed pod as a spoon for the stinky cat food, and yes, sectioned, they do make a good spoon, thanks, Ann!), looked at the growth around us, other local trees and flowers, the creek beds waiting for summer rains, and once, high above us, red tailed hawks in synchronous flight, mating in the sky.
It was then that I first heard and learned the term synchronous flight, a term at once poetic and descriptive, especially after being eye-stunned by the aerial ballet we were watching. I looked it up later on and found only dry words that didn't work, until I remembered a poem I found many years ago and treasure for its combining science and love in a rare way. Oh, and that it's about hummingbirds too.
The Hummingbird: A Seduction
|If I were a female hummingbird perched still|
And quiet on an upper myrtle branch
In the spring afternoon and if you were a male
Alone in the whole heavens before me, having parted
Yourself, for me, from cedar top and honeysuckle stem
And earth down, your body hovering in midair
Far away from jewelweed, thistle, and bee balm;
And if I watched how you fell, plummeting before me,
And how you rose again and fell, with such mastery
That I believed for a moment you were the sky
And the red-marked bird diving inside your circumference
Was just the physical revelation of the light's
Most perfect desire;
And if I saw your sweeping and sucking
Performance of swirling egg and semen in the air,
The weaving, twisting vision of red petal
And nectar and soaring rump, the rush of your wing
In its grand confusion of arcing and splitting
Created completely out of nothing just for me,
Then when you came down to me, I would call you
My own spinning bloom of ruby sage, my funnelling
Storm of sunlit sperm and pollen, my only breathless
Piece of scarlet sky, and I would bless the base
Of each of your feathers and touch the tine
Of string muscles binding your wings and taste
The odor of your glistening oils and hunt
The honey in your crimson flare
And I would take you and take you and take you
Deep into any kind of nest you ever wanted.
~ Pattiann Rogers
It's fun hanging out with a biologist who loves the earth and sky and sea and all the creatures in all of that with a passion, who doesn't teach as much as casually impart jewels. Thanks, T!
Of course, the object was and is to tempt Cretin home. Hopefully there will be a good word today.
We headed over to Dinghy Dock for a drink or two and Culebra magic lingered. There was just the right group of people there, in just the right weather, with just enough of everything to make it feel like older times, except it is now and the only thing older is us. Older friendships, older stories, older unspokens like the joke about jokes where old friends say "Ha! number 9" and everyone starts laughing. It was like that.
Yes, yes, we're at the food part now. Finally!
The other day on the big island there was a bag of naturally raised chicken thighs. I imagine the whole chicken was naturally raised but I only got the thighs, which, I confess, is my favorite part of the chicken. They were tiny thighs compared to some of the massive ones you can get and I don't know if that is the 'natural' part or not, but four of them makes about one and a half of a monster thigh.
After a few (more) discussions about adding sauces and marinades with my non-marinading friend, I decided to be simple and just sauté the thighs, with salt and pepper and call them done. But there, right in front of me on a heavily laden spice and herb shelf, was this concoction I knew would be great on them.
Add a salad and give it a try! If you don't have the Penzey's mix, and the herb and spice list seems too formidable. at least go with the salt, cayenne pepper, paprika, garlic and cumin. And if you haven't already, get some rosemary, basil and parsley growing! You'll feel so good!
Have a find fun in flung expectations Friday! Do something fortunate with friends.