Now I've heard the music of geese. They are migrating down here to their traditional Chesapeak winter grounds. The sky is constantly cut by the wavered edge lines of flock flight, day and night. Particularly at dusk, as they wing over the marshes and creeks and fields -- fields let me haste to point out of harvested and yet-to-be harvested corn and grains -- they are a dramatic silhouette against the mauve horizons. They honk. They honk while flying. They honk-chatter constantly on the ground -and water, to and with each other.
Last night we were driven out into the country to have dinner in the home of a couple who live in the historic Kent County village of Still Pond. The village is mostly 18th century, with a scattering of 19th edifaces -- even a couple from the 17th.
Ribbons of geese furled and unfurled as we drove. We could hear them though inside the car.
We sat in the screened in porch before dinner. Still Pond is located among grain fields and a web of creeks feeding into the Chester River. Oh did the geese vocalize, in steps, in harmony, and sometimes out of tune and with dissonance. I wish I could understand what they were saying.
Funny how the Chester River year-round geese's constant blather sounds different from these Canadian geese.
BTW, dinner was 'merely' a plain supper, of entirely local ingredients of course, from the pork roast to the corn out of which the fritters were made. The wine was local, and so was the beer. Even the spice cookies were local, that show up only at this time of year. Merely a plain supper? It was one of the best meals I've ever eaten. I'd put it up there with the best of meals I've had in Spain, Italy, New Mexico and New York.
Well, the after-supper Jameson's wasn't local, I suppose, though our hosts are of Irish descent.
We were driven back to C'town through drifts of fog.
I thought, even now, tonight, geese are flying and honking above the Towers of Manhattan, where I'd hear them if I were there. They are coming here. I love it here.
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I can confirm that Jameson's is not local to Maryland.
Michener's Chesapeake opens with an account of the geese. It sounded awfully impressive, which you've just confirmed.
The Chesapeake people, at the ones around here, highly approve of Michner's book.
I really do love it here, at least right now. Everyone tells me that winter's different, and that I can believe easily. Someone said to me this AM that when the blizzards hit it is much more fun and much better to be in Manhattan than here. This in response to me saying how much I was looking forward to hunkering down quietly when winter gets here -- as our calendar continues to become more and even over-stuffed through at least the first part of November.
Did I tell you on top of everything else, e V got asked to come to Cleveland and the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame to read from The Year Before the Flood and some other things in conjunction with the Fats Domino and New Orleans activities at the big weekend at the end of this month? He is thrilled as can be about that.
We are just about to have our own wheeles too. Just waiting for the new glasses to arrive down here, which is supposed to be either Friday or Saturday.
I just love it here. I feel astonishingly at home. Of course, people are just wonderful to us -- and they're such cool smart talented intelligent energetic people too.
Something new though for me: the ladies have taken me in, and done so as ME as opposed to an accesssory of N, or a way to get closer to him. I think this is the first time this has ever happened in anything like a congruent situation. I'm so pleased. Though this also cuts deeply into my productive time. Still, it is nice to have friends and a social life.
Gotta say the Tulane ladies were really snooty to me with the very few exceptions that were faculty -- and most of those were lesbians! I made quite a few gentlemen friends in NO, but except for these faculty, not a single woman friend.
That's been changing, just this last year -- as we've come more in contact with the museum people and the activist women.
Love, C.
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