island time is different. maybe it's the constant rhythm of the waves, like a natural breath that surrounds the ground, fills the air with a low, permanent hum. the song of the sea. and all that is invisible, there, beyond the water surface.
that's what i thought about when i stopped in Orsola, the norhtern tip of this island, to take this photo of a wall / ocean mural - which also connects to the new issue of YB: animals. here's a stanza from one of the poems (Badgley) that i noted down to take along:
I might head down through the canyon
past Batopilas, look for a way
over the ridgeline. A map? No roads
there, just me and the elements.
and another animal moment: the book i finished reading today, "Überm Rauschen" - "Above the river's murmur".
it's set in a small town next to a stream in the Eiffel region of Germany, and didn't really speak to me, here, after the road books. but of all places abroad, it inclued: Montana again, personalized in Paul and Norman Maclean, the fly fishers, who - in the story - arrive there as US soldiers in a helicopter, to go fishing. truth or tale? who knows, in a fiction book that also includes the line: "Köder: Alles ist Täuschung, nichts ist wahr. - Aber vielleicht täuscht der Fisch auch uns."
which, with the help of babelfish, translates into: "Seal: Everything is deception, nothing is true. However perhaps - the fish deceives us, too."