How in the world do I suddenly have this life that finds me in pigtails, sitting on a barrel of hay in spandex at Farmer's market in a town called Hillsborough, holding a puppy in the middle of 30 mile ride in the blazing hot sun having just bought corn for a later in the day BBQ? What have you done with Jamie?

this high summer we love will pour its light
the fields grown rich and ragged in one strong moment
then before we're ready will crash into autumn
with a violence we can't accept
a bounty we can't forgive
night frost will strike when noons are warm
the pumpkins wildly glowing
the green tomatoes straining huge on vines
queen anne and blackeyed susan will struggle rusty
as the milkweed stakes her claim
she who will stand at last dark sticks barely rising
up through snow her testament of continuation

WE'LL DREAM OF A LONGER SUMMER
BUT THIS IS THE ONE WE HAVE
I LAY MY SUNBURNT HAND ON YOUR TABLE:
THIS IS THE TIME WE HAVE

-Adrienne Rich

I told a friend that life down here is "Benignly pleasant." He replied. "Benignly pleasant doesn't sound so bad. Beats living in the fourteenth century." Good point, Todd. Um, thanks.

I'll miss you
Until I meet you
I miss you all the time

I don't want to think about what I don't have
I want to worry 'bout what I've got
-The Neilds "Tailspin"

Dar Williams at Eno in Durham, NC