"Away then to loosen, to unstring the divine bow, so tense, so long. Away, from curtains, carpet, sofa, book, – from "society" – from city house, street, and modern improvements and luxuries..." – Whitman, from "An Early Summer Reveille"






Aug 20


What to do, long days of old summer slumbering along, as if on a leash, a dog, but beloved – and that we have seen the guiding park across the street at the sports nets, the edges of Monona, now cluttered by the overgrowth of rip rapped wreath of aquatic vines and such...We walk into Olbrich Park and see how entirely 'nother world opens up, rose garden pavilion off to the east, observation pool to the west, little trinkets of such plantings of the wildest of world known flowers bouncing by the landing of a thousand bees, the Chinese figs overhanging and holding us down inside a tunnel away from the sun, thankful, thankful forever. The Eastern rock garden pulsing above by a small pool, alluvial and waving by the velvety green of underwater plants, pulsing down into the split forks of running creeks, alive, in love, we hold our hands together along the garden and sing..