August 8, 2011
Blues veena to preen by.
Morning. Strong coffee at hand. A good counterpoint to the even stronger red wine the night before. Both beverages are helping me with the counterpoint I need to be composing shortly. I sit and inhale the kelpy/salty/invigorating/warming air, watching artfully contorted gulls as they preen and groom themselves for the new day.
Me? Maybe I won’t even get to the shower today, and just scramble around these rocks like a tomboy until my muses are pleased with the notes that fly around my head. Unpreened, ungroomed. The muses, the notes, and me.
But not these gulls!