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| Crambe maritima & Rosa 'Souvenir du Docteur Jamain' 21 July 2025 |
I stepped from plank to plank – Emily Dickinson
I stepped from plank to plank
So slow and cautiously;
The stars about my head I felt,
About my feet the sea.
I knew not but the next
Would be my final inch,—
This gave me that precarious gait
Some call experience.
My grandmother, María de los Dolores Reyes de Irureta Goyena often quoted from the 19th Argentine prose poem – El Gaucho – Martín Fierro , “Mas sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo.” That translates to “The devil knows more not because he is the devil but because he is an old man.”
And because I am an old man about to be 83 soon, I think of stuff that is obvious. The word routine (I have a pretty inflexible daily one) comes from the idea of taking the same route. Is that obvious? Jorge Luís Borges liked to write about obvious stuff. He once said that in order to remember you must first forget.
Part of that daily routine of mine that is one that I cannot avoid is to associate so much of what I see in my house and garden to my memory of Rosemary.
Most of my plant scans somehow I always connect to her. Today’s scan is of one of her fave of all grey plants (she loved grey plants) of Crambe maritima which I combined with one of my re-blooming (the correct botanical term is remontant) red roses, Rosa ‘Souvenir du Docteur Jamain”. I did this combination as it is about her and about me. She did introduce me to be interested in roses. This scan is about our shared experience, one we had for 52 years.
Every moment of my daily routine is to remember what I have lost.
More Emily Dickinson
More Emily Dickinson
When everything that ticked has stopped
All the Witchcraft that we need
It only gives our wish for blue
Rosemary white and a bit of yellow
November left then clambered up
You cannot make remembrance grow
November
the maple wears a gayer scarf
Just as green and as white
It's full as opera
I cannot dance upon my Toes
a door just opened on the street
Amber slips away
Sleep
When August burning low
Pink Small and punctual
A slash of blue
I cannot dance upon my toes
Ah little rose
For hold them, blue to blue
Linda Melsted - the music of the violin does not emerge alone
The Charm invests her face
A sepal, a petal and a thorn
The Savior must have been a docile Gentleman
T were blessed to have seen
There is no frigate like a book
I pay in satin cash
Water makes many beds
The viola da gamba
But sequence ravelled out of reach
A parasol is the umbrella's daughter
Without the power to die
Lessons on the piny
Ample make this bed
How happy is the little stone
The shutting of the eye
I dwell in possibility
when Sappho was a living girl
In a library
A light exists in spring
The lady dare not lift her veil
I took my power in my hand
I find my feet have further goals
I cannot dance upon my toes
The Music of the Violin does not emerge alone
Red Blaze
He touched me, so I live to know
Rear Window- The Entering Takes Away
Said Death to Passion
We Wear the Mask That Grins And Lies
It was not death for I stood alone
The Music in the Violin Does Not Emerge Alone
I tend my flowers for thee
Lavinia Norcross Dickinson
Pray gather me anemone!
Ample make her bed
His caravan of red
Me-come! My dazzled face
Develops pearl and weed
But peers beyond her mesh
Surgeons must be very careful
Water is taught by thirst
I could not prove that years had feet
April played her fiddle
A violin in Baize replaced
I think the longest hour
The spirit lasts
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/03/i-left-them-in-ground-emily-dickinson.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/01/i-felt-my-life-with-both-my-hands.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/currer-bell-emily-dickinson-charlotte.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/and-zero-at-bone-with-dirks-of-melody.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/05/charm-invests-her-face.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/i-could-not-see-to-see.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/blonde-assasin-passes-on.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2012/12/you-almost-bathed-your-tongue.html
