More specifically concerning: autumn
constitutional
10 December 2003, around 15.33.
Swan, river, fog.
in haste
12 December 2003, around 10.53.
mire
12 January 2004, around 10.27.
Canal.
of the times
12 September 2007, around 20.38.
fallen pears fermenting on the pavement indecisive days too warm and too cold leaden-eyed maidens drooping into evening slouching easily on an afternoon bicycle slumped down reading in a pillowed chair
looking out
6 November 2009, around 19.48.
PF took this picture looking out over Goris. The test included an essay question: ‘write about your fall holidays.’. Although I correctly translated ‘vacation’ into ‘holiday’, I forgot to change ‘fall’ into ‘autumn’. One of the students asked about it. Made me think about what a ‘fall holiday’ would be: bungee-jumping – or Halloween.
dappled, dazzled
18 October 2010, around 10.15.
A view (32)
29 September 2011, around 6.57.
Crambe repetita (23)
29 July 2012, around 17.28.
Hope Mirrlees, The Counterplot
barrier to entry
31 August 2014, around 14.48.
Reading at the window, December 2013. There were too many things to do this summer, each day crowded with too of the little nothings that are so necessary if anything is going to happen. Now, though, projects are winding down, and there’s nothing to do but bustle about and procrastinate on those last few things […]
grates
27 November 2014, around 15.30.
Evidence of a brief excursion outdoors. There’s a fire in the fireplace. There are books on the table. It’s misting outside in the true Oregon manner.
regression analysis
21 February 2015, around 17.51.
Around the neighborhood. One of the more interesting stylistic problems during the Hellenistic period was the problem of quotation. The forms of direct, half-hidden and completely hidden quoting were endlessly varied, as were the forms for framing quotations by a context, forms of intonational quotation marks, varying degrees of alienation or assimilation of another’s quoted […]
16 September 2016 – Crézan
16 September 2016, around 19.41.
Day 10. And at last we have arrived. It is autumn – the haws are ripening and the cyclamen are blooming. We’ve taken our country walk and are ready to curl up with a book.
13.x.2020
13 October 2020, around 14.11.
Uncanny walk through the woods, jumpy at the metallic rattle of leaves, the tinny sound of rain, the echo of my own footsteps, the distant yip of a dog. At each step the sensation of being watched, perhaps only by a wren, but watched – and warily.
iterate
30 October 2020, around 10.18.
To begin with how it is. Sun fallen behind the ridge to the south, the light fading in the valley, though still bright on the northern hills. Raking up after a frost, hoping to clear the drive and the edges of the road before the rain. For I can push a barrow as well as […]
in smoke
20 October 2022, around 16.40.
How to sleep in a world without a lullaby, without a lulling refrain, without a capacity for forgetting, without unconsciousness itself, since Eros and Thanatos patrol everywhere shamelessly, sardonic watchmen armed with whips and cudgels? How to sleep in a world hypnotized by the vision of its own absence of vision of the world, as […]
in waves
4 November 2022, around 16.03.
Walked out in the downpour to pick up holds from the library – a biography of Walter Benjamin and Black Jacobins by C. L. R. James, neither of which I am likely to read at the moment but which did, however, give me a destination. Mostly I wanted to be out walking in the rain […]
A view (59)
27 September 2023, around 9.28.
Goris, Armenia, 27 September 2008 Certainly there are good and bad times, but our mood changes more often than our fortune. —Jules Renard (Journals, trans. Louise Bogan & Elizabeth Roget, January 1905)
Adversaria (8)
30 November 2023, around 4.16.
‘And yet it’s autumn now, as clear as water and as bright as a mirror, and I should be happy’ —Eileen Chang (‘On the Second Edition of Romances’, Written on Water, trans. Andrew F. Jones, p. 218) ‘Every reader is cumbered by an excess of books, and every book by an excess of readers—each overwhelmed […]
lagging
5 September 2024, around 10.03.
Oh, the slumber before a delayed departure, when your feet are stuck in yesterday, when you sleep in a strange bed and the walls fall away and everything is packed and your feet are stuck and your arms bound by sleep. —Yury Tynyanov (The Death of Vazir-Mukhtar, trans. Anna Kurkina Rush & Christopher Rush, p. […]
A view (60)
3 October 2024, around 9.53.
While travelling a few days ago.