Yesterday morning dawned without a cloud in the sky. I met Eoin for a walkabout with our dogs and we had a wonderful walk. (Hence the film above for its sounds and the photos below.) When I got home, I felt like I was stoned; I saw beauty in everything; everything moved me deeply. Everything was newborn. The leaves are clean and fresh, no precipitate dust yet, or insect bites. What seems like scores of shades of green make blocks of colour in the landscape.
The day began with us finding Lady Slipper Orchids—a third Orchideae that I’ve seen growing here in the forest. The dominant sensation was of silence; Eoin and I often walk silently to hear it. As we got closer to the marsh, birdsong and frogs were our soundtrack.
The birds are paired; the fauna is loud with the voices of seduction. Nettles grow everywhere near the shore of the marsh. Garter Snakes lie still, in the open, getting warm on the rocks; fat Voles scamper under the Salal.
I used to live in a slit in a stack. I lived on the seventh floor of a city-centre high-rise. My neighbour was a Seven Eleven.
I could never go back.
As I said: I felt stoned. I felt hyper-sensitive to beauty, so going to the nursery was intoxicating. However: I was prudent. I got six Skimmia. I am thrilled to have these hardy shade loving plants for the front of my house and in a couple of places in the backyard. I also got more herbs, Catnip, Marijuana seeds and Petunias. Then I mowed all my lawns. as a shower began, the clouds having rolled in startlingly fast.
And this stoned feeling made me feel welcome pride in, and love for, my yard. Yes: There are a bajillion things to be done, but when I consider that two years ago there was naught but rock, Fir detritus and weeds—but mostly rock—what exists now, is gorgeous.
Before my breakdown (BD) , my slit in a stack was immaculate. I took pride in the meals I served, and I served them on picturesque tables and dishes. I was a gay cliché, but I was happy. I always tidied for guests.
I’m still happy, but now, when I look outside and see evidence of my gardening and lunch, I love what I see. It says that someone lives here. I’m far, far more relaxed about things than before my BD.
I went to Anna’s and then to the park to meet Gunther. The sun came out. We spent ninety minutes there exhausting our dogs, chatting and laughing. Me and Gunther and Anna. Can you guess, regular readers where this is going?
Anna told us the fatality rate for Covid-19 in California was point zero, zero, something. This was a total bummer for Mr. Contact High who was enjoying finding everything beautiful.
I came home and went to Google and got credible Covid-19 fatality statistics from government websites: BC—5.2%; Canada—5.9%; USA—6.3%; California—4%; New York City—7.7%; Worldwide—7.1%. I’m not going to tell Anna or challenge her. I’m just tiring of her conviction of the ridiculous.
I came home and decided to watch Coriolanus by the Stratford Festival. Bruce recommended it to me. As with the National’s Twelfth Night, I lasted mere minutes. Mr. Contact High was trumped by Mr. Sick of Shakespeare.
Bruce lasted ten minutes watching Akhnaten.
I ended the day as Mr. Joyboy—not the Evelyn Waugh one (the mortician in The Loved One— great, great novel), but the stoned kind. I was joyous because I baked a batch of Ranger cookies and watched the National’s Frankenstein on YouTube with Benedick Cumberbatch and Johnny Lee Miller.
What a friggin’ wonder that was! Mr. Cumberbatch is phenomenal as the creature—absolutely incredible! And to think, the next night he played Frankenstein. The two leads reversed roles during the run of the play. The direction matches Cumberbatch’s performance. So does Johnny Lee Miller.
What a triumph of a show! What a great take on Shelly’s story, telling it from the creature’s point of view.
At two o’clock today, the other version of Frankenstein goes up on YouTube, wherein Johnny Lee Miller plays the creature and Cumberbatch plays Dr. Frankenstein.
Guess what’s next up at The National: Shakespeare! Damn.
|Eoin, Walnut and Clovis lead the way.|
|Some beauty mushrooms we past.|
|This is what is called "The Marsh," but it looks more like|
a lake to me. It was stunning in the early morning.
|The marsh again.|
|Sheba leading us through a glade.|
|More of the glade. It was a gorgeous walk!|
|A huge bush of the Fuschia-like flowers I wrote about the other day.|
|Eoin looking at some Violets we found.|
|The Violets. The forest is beautiful in ways I never knew.|