An interesting photo with some spectral images and that bit of pink in the lower left hand corner might be my finger. I’m not sure. Nonetheless, I like it for those very reasons. Also, this day lily blooms earlier in the summer and then comes through with a few unexpected blossoms at the end of the summer. I’m always surprised. It makes me smile.
I’ve been getting to my post a bit later than usual, as we are committed to taking our morning walks. We wake up (Don gets up earlier than me), we read for an hour or so while drinking our first cup of coffee. I reluctantly get up and put on my jeans and we head out on our neighborhood walk, whereupon I immediately exclaim at the beauty around us and am happy we did it. After the walk, I make our second cup of coffee and we sit and chat. I scroll through Instagram. Then I sit down and write a post.
While on our walk, we chatted with a neighbor who saw mama bear looking for food in her trash can a couple of days ago. She’s trying to feed her cubs. All of us in this neighborhood love our wildlife and we do our best to honor and respect those creatures. We are protective of them. They’re black bears, by the way, who are more afraid of us than we are of them. They are not likely to harm anyone unless that person threatens them or a cub. And we wouldn’t do that. So I’m not nervous. Actually, I’d like to see the two cubs!
We’re expecting rain and thunderstorms later today and it is looking rather gloomy out there. I mowed part of the front lawn yesterday afternoon and Don mowed the rest when he got home. There’s still more to go, but that will have to wait a day or two.
Still immersed in the world of Shakespeare and Company Paris – a fascinating history of both incarnations; the first bookstore started by Sylvia Beach in 1919, shut down by the Nazis in 1941, and the second incarnation, started by George Whitman on the Rue de Bûcherie across the Seine from Notre Dame in 1951. It is now run by George’s daughter, Sylvia Whitman. George was a democratic socialist and believed in helping writers, giving shelter to those who needed it in return for a couple of hours of work in the bookshop each day, who invited one and all to read, rest, have meetings, take part in social causes. I just finished reading about the 60s and 70s in the bookstore. In 1968, that tumultuous year, there were fiery protests all over Paris. The bookshop was refuge for draft dodgers and protestors. One story, shared by an American, is of being chased by the police (he had taken part in a demonstration) and finding no refuge as all neighboring shop doors were locked. Finally, he saw Shakespeare and Company, where a light was on. He was greeted by George, who immediately figured out what was going on and urged the young man to hide upstairs, as George locked the door and turned out the light. A fascinating man with a huge heart, who lived well into his nineties.
Here’s the exciting day ahead: doing lots of laundry. Don’t be too jealous, okay?
Happy Wednesday.