the joys of cluelessness

Working for a living sure takes a dent out of my free time. I was up at 6:15 to feed Charlie and Maggie and work out on the treadmill. And then I went to work. And then I picked up the haul from the CSA: all kinds of greens I don’t recognize; more scallions than I know what to do with; a million pounds of carrots; handfuls of tiny, adorable yellow squash; a bunch of other stuff I don’t remember, and fresh basil. The chard and bok choy immediately went into a smoothie. Basil wilts upon merely contemplating being put in the fridge, so I made pesto right away. (I have a general kitchen policy of maintaining the non-basil ingredients for a full batch of pesto on-hand at all times. Some people prepare for emergencies by having plenty of batteries and canned food available; my way is more fun.) (Though perhaps not as ultimately…useful.)

And then it was time to go to chorus. Yay! Our first rehearsal of the season – we haven’t been together since our last concert, in May. Well, there was the time the power went out in the middle of our June concert of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony, which led to a sing-along followed by an evacuation. But I digress.

The first few weeks of rehearsal are always a horrible, frustrating experience. No, no, no, that’s not it. They’re an opportunity to learn to relax into the humble spaciousness of Not Knowing. That’s right. That’s what it’s all about. Not Knowing. Not knowing my part. Not knowing where we are in the score. Not knowing how to pronounce this particular phrase (Latin, this time around.) Not knowing why I’m in the soprano section when I can’t hit above an E for the first few weeks of rehearsal. Everything is a yoga learning experience once you open up to it. 

Here’s what we’re doing this time around (click for propaganda)

For today’s photo op, I have only this for you, but what a this it is. The West River, a tribute of the Connecticut River, was in full flood when That Bitch Irene visited, and now the water levels are much reduced – I’m not sure why. Perhaps various dam operators downstream needed to open the floodgates? At any rate, not only is the water level low, but these fascinating channels are apparent. I’m thinking they were scoured out by flood waters, but I don’t know for sure.

This is from the Putney Road bridge over the West River. I’m about 150 feet from the Connecticut River – it’s behind me.

 

Zooming in on where the Retreat Meadows let out into the West River. This is the channel we kayak through to get from the Meadows, to the West River and thence to the Connecticut River. All the mud flats there are usually at least several feet deep in water.

 

The marina.

Wow.