Iris once sat here & told me to take a photo of her, just her alone.
I think of it every time I pass this spot in the woods.
Iris once sat here & told me to take a photo of her, just her alone.
I think of it every time I pass this spot in the woods.
There was an old woman tossed up in a basket
Seventeen times as high as the moon
And where she was going, I couldn’t help ask it
For under her arm, she carried a broom.
“Old woman, old woman, old woman,” quoth I,
“Where are you going, up so high?”
“To sweep the cobwebs off the skyβ
And I’ll be with you, by and by.”
βM. Goose
We saw her yesterday in Compton. A womanβ destined to be an old woman if all goes wellβ with a broom under her arm. Or over her head. Well, anyhow, she was making brooms. She remembered Iris from last year. She remembered the tiny veggie scrubber they had worked on together. She remembered how much of it they had made and she said to Iris, “This year, you are old enough to make your own broom.” She sat Iris in front of her on her broom-maker’s bench and made a broom with her. She was absolutely delightful and I didn’t say thank you nearly enough.
When we walked down to the school today, we took the broom so that I could carve Iris’s name & yesterday’s date on it, as Madame KeeVanne (a.k.a. Julie Jo) had said to do.
I took my camera with me, as you can tell. That’s becoming a rare event these days. I used to take it everywhere! I’m not sure what happened. Perhaps I got disgruntled with the quality of the lighting at the apartment. Perhaps I got distracted my a myriad of things to do. But I did take my camera. I like to document my children, to prove their youth and beauty.
On the way back, we stopped at the woods piano. These days, one has to hunt for piano keys on the ground if one wishes to play the piano with piano keys.
Akiva is my main piano player. He appreciates all pianos.
This was once an integral part of a once-beautiful upright grand piano.
Iris & Akiva play a duet.
Akiva bangs out a solo.
Keys. There once were keys.
Brief photographic timeline of the woods piano:
Broken Down Piano: September 11, 2017
How Fares the Piano? April 9, 2018
Val-Estrie Piano (again): May 30, 2018
Decline of the Woods Piano (Winter): January 1, 2019
We walk through the woods to the island for the first time in a very long time.
I have not been sleeping well lately, & I have no energy to go in the water.
There is a woodland path that begins across Rue Gosselin from the school. I have photographed here often. When there was a camp at Val Estrie, there was an obstacle course of sorts for the children to take part in. In the years since the camp’s closure, the games have fallen into disrepair. Some have ropes that are strangling trees. Some interesting components have been moved to new homes someplace by adventuresome hands. The tires are rotting. This spring, the tiny bridge washed out.
The bridge was integral in getting from one side of the river to the otherβ as bridges often are. Now one can cross by getting wet, which is fine if the weather is warm and one is prepared to get wet. In winter, the river freezes over eventually, and then it’s simple enough to get to the other side. But during the winter thaws, the long autumns and the chilly springs, the little river is impassible to all but the most intrepid of little children and the most long-legged of adults. Because there is no longer a camp and the new owner has no interest in entertaining trespassers, there is little hope that a new bridge will be put in place.
You can see the tiny bridge in the last photo of this postβ https://barefootfool.com/the-river-children/ βand in the first photo of this postβ https://barefootfool.com/tiny-bridge-tiny-river-little-boy/