Sunday, February 20, 2011

Flakes A-Flyin'

Winter has re-appeared out my windows. Right now it's snowing to beat the band out there and isn't supposed to stop until sometime tomorrow. The big snow-colored blob crept up the Weather Channel's map and gobbled us up about an hour ago. We're supposed to get about a foot of snow before it's all over. Now I'm sure to have snowshoeing snow up in Ellison Bay on Wednesday. Yay! Before the snow began I made sure to fill all the bird feeders and top off the birdbath so that Durwood's feathered friends weather the storm well. I'm back to writing up artist interviews for The Clearing's newsletter, Siftings, so the weekend has been devoted to listening to the tapes of said interviews (thank God for tiny tape recorders!) and waking up my brain cells to get first drafts down on paper. I'd really rather sit and knit and maybe doze but I need to poke myself awake, maybe take a spin on the stationary bike, and come back to life. Damned mid-winter blahs.

February 19--Iran, Isfandiyar's Third Course: He Slays a Dragon. "Shah Tahmasp is great," the men cry as he draws his bow. Kemal holds his horse and lays a calming hand on its neck. Shoot the beast, he thinks. He can see the Shah's hand shake as he tries to notch the arrow and smoothly draw it back. The singing and chanting is enough to make anyone nervous and Kemal knows his master is not an enthusiastic hunter. If Kemal could step up and fire alongside the Shah his arrow would fly straight and true, and the Shah could take credit for killing the beast. The Shah's horse shied away from the dragon's roars and Kemal calms him. Even this horse is too much animal for Tahmasp. He is a studious man more at ease with astronomers and philosophers but he needed to go out with the hunters and soldiers from time to time to keep their respect. Kemal worked very hard to teach the Shah enough horsemanship and weaponry so he did not embarrass himself. Kemal buried his face in the horse's side as the Shah's arrow fell far short of its mark and the other men began to stir.

Poor guy. Just looking at him you can see he's a lover, not a fighter. I'm hoping for a snow day tomorrow. Blow, wind, blow! Snow, snow, snow! (Just be gone by Tuesday so I can clean up and leave for a short escape to Fish Creek on Wednesday. Thanks.)
--Barbara


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