Francesca Forrest's Blog, page 180

The mantle of my privilege

I want to share people’s stories, because by the transitive property of story, we all grow and deepen. I’ve never subsisted on a bowl of rice a day and picked wild herbs to try to cure my firstborn’s measles while under the watchful eye of the Khmer Rouge, but my neighbor has, and she told me about it, and I’m wiser. I tell you about it, and you’re wiser. Transitive property of story.

Recently, I’ve started reaching out to people---just tentatively, just a little---to hear their stories. But...

A Mighty Girl

Kate Beaton called attention to this cool website,
A Mighty Girl ,
which is a clearinghouse of books and movies featuring "smart, confident, and courageous girls."

Specifically, she linked to the page on the top picks of graphic novels featuring mighty girls . I was a bit surprised that Bayou wasn't in there (maybe they'll add it), but there's certainly a large and interesting selection as it is--more than 80 titles. Neat!

the journey to buy morning milk

We needed milk, so I walked out to buy some. The road began in mist:



The marsh has become a tapestry of autumn flowers: Japanese knotweed, goldenrod, asters. . .



I decided not to buy the milk at the supermarket but to go on to the convenience store, and that, Mr. Frost, made all the difference in terms of things seen and heard. As I paused on the verge of that decision, someone, an older man, judging by his voice, passed behind me, talking on his cell phone:

Yeah, I hear you. Where are you, Ver...

The calcified birds of Turahalli Forest

deponti was in Turahalli Forest, near Bangalore, recently, and she took this photo:



As you undoubtedly know, the birds of ancient days had wingspans the size of hillsides. When struck by lightning as they flew, they calcified, and in some places their magnificent wings remain, as stone outcroppings in the landscape. Turahalli Forest is famous for this well-preserved wing.

Isn't that right, deponti ?

The Raven King Comes

The Raven King Comes

Two paths diverged in a green-gold wood
And there a wooden table stood.
Mother and daughter passed that way
And by the table lingered.

“I almost could believe I see
Fine cups and plates laid out for me
Although the table is quite bare,”
The daughter said, and then

From up above there came a sound
Unknown and strange that echoed round
Half like a croak, yet shining at the edge,
Clear and almost shrill.

Not frog or crow. I speak as one who knows
The call of the Raven King who goes
Traveli...

the lay of the land, sky jellyfish

I plucked up my courage and skateboarded around my neighborhood. One more barrier down: neighbors have now seen me engaging in my new hobby.

One thing I love about skateboarding is the sense I get of the land--its rolls and folds--as if it were water. Everything feels much more three dimensional. I feel like I'm hugging the world, and my arms are as wide as the route I'm taking.

Also, I saw four monarch butterflies all together at once. They were at a ... butterfly bush.

Also, the sky was so blu...

Free Will

Because when either eternal bliss or woe is prophesied, one wants to prove the prophecy wrong (or anyway, I do).

and they lived happily ever after
you ordain
so I, rebellious, run from joy
and shatter each small thing
that rings of contentment

and their future was one of bitter sorrow
you proclaim
so I, in chains, declare my love
for the bruises that they make
and for the peculiar twisting
of the heart
recalling all that has been lost

---------

It's just contrariness, I suppose.

Speaking of contrariness, ba...

out to seek my fortune

In the fairytale, the third son or daughter sets out to seek their fortune, with not a penny to their name, and . . .

I've lived my life largely according to what the water has brought me, and what the water has brought me has been good, as I've been blessed to live in a land of many deep streams, with drenching rains. I haven't been so good at moving out of the paths I've found myself in, however, and that's periodically something I want to do. theferrett 's post on being a grownup on the out...

scratching my mosquito bites and thinking about EEE

That's eastern equine encephalitis, and that's literally what I'm doing. When people get eastern equine encephalitis, it's fatal 50 percent of the time. For comparison, the influenza pandemic of 1917-18 had an overall mortality rate of 20 percent, and ebola has a mortality rate of 70 percent. Just so we're all on the same page here.

The disease is spread by mosquitos, especially those living in hardwood swamps, like what's behind my house. Aaaaannnnd, a horse in my town has it, which has promp...

the world drawn in ink and water

What is sky and what is water? What is cloud and what is hill? What does solid mean, or light or shadow?