Sorry about leaving you'uns out of the loop for August and now half of September. I have nothing left to say. Everything now pretty much amounts to lists of attributes, I have lost faith in my little machine to convey the ding an sich. We have between ourselves but a pair of snapshot images of what life is like for me at three of the clock on Sunday afternoon somewhere in east central mississippi, in the Hollis Creek watershed, the Tombigbee river basin, under the languid tropical arms of Ike, my espresso pulsing, a pot of black beans gurgling old archetypes upwards and outwardly, and aside from that, nothing new under the sun, my queer shoulder still to the wheel, while all about reel shadows of indignant birds, and darkness drops again, but my back sure does feel better.
