An English In Kentucky



















May 22nd 2009

    Hoppy bug in the eggplant, but a summer kitchen has a roof.  A blue sky, full sun almost as though I was in the Sinai.  The breeze reminded me of it. It was a whisper of a breeze, just often enough to occasionally dry the skin.  Then to look up and see green trees and green grass meant time enough had been spent in struggle.

    It is the quality of blue in the sky that makes me wary.  I have seen it high in the foothills of Mount Elgon.  It is a deep blue, I suppose.  I think of it in association with a cold night blue.  No haze to blanket the earth.  And sun hits the flesh like boiling water.



    In the Sinai, so far as I can recall, there never was a blanket and there was no green in the sense of a Kentucky green.  The daytime sky went almost to infinity, and at night it was black against those millions of stars.

    I once saw this blue in winter.  Three feet of snow had robbed us of electricity.  It was April I think.  The morning was two different places, the earth was frigid and as crunchy as an unhappy family, the sky looked hot to me and right up there, almost where an airplane would fly, there was a thin trail of smoke which were Geese heading North. 

    There has to be Viking in me.  I have the red blotchy skin and freckles of the Northerner and the greenish eyes of a Celt.  Don't actually remember what color my hair used to be.  Might have had red in it somewhere.  Either way I just don't mix well with that color blue when it's in the sky. 

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