I drove by the Viewpoint this morning. The lawn was being mowed. I'm not sure just who it was who was doing it. In any case, the sun was shining, and it looked as though there was probably dew on the ground.

Olin and the Edge on a Night in About September, 2010

Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

It's all I can do to keep up with time.

From behind the Hillock, May 18, 2010

Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Time, it seems, is always moving forward.

The Point, Mar. 23, 2010

Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Later last night it began to rain, but the droplets were fine enough that what was coming down could almost have been called mist. Looking down the street, I thought about how quickly the present becomes the past.

Dark Street, Jan. 4, 2010

Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

Finding the Right Word

It seems like there's a word for everything if you just keep searching for it. Recently I wrote about the low cement embankment at the Viewpoint. Well, I stopped by the Viewpoint this morning and got to wondering whether I'd used the right word for what I called the "embankment." At first there was nobody else there. But then two women came walking along. I asked them, "What would you call this cement strip here?" "Footings," one offered, without hesitation. I'm not sure that word is appropriate, regardless of whether it's in the singular or plural. But I think embankment may be way off, too. If you go to the Viewpoint and you can come up with a better word, please let me know.

As I was leaving, I noticed that a few leaves on the Sentinel--the Bigleaf Maple that grows up from just underneath the edge--have already turned yellow. And the samaras (the "maple keys" containing the seeds) have now more or less turned brown. Time marches on.