of the Windrider (which doesn't really have one). Blustery day with wind from the south-east, giving us a lively first ride of the season. Storms, reportedly, in the offing.

Forenoon spend shoveling gravel, again, but this time for Bob Ellen who is working to get his place ready for visitors.

Some like to shovel, as they say, and that some seems to include the two of us. (Bob and Wendy spent several hot, dripping days over here, long ago, helping us bend rebar prior to the pouring of the foundation, we must remember.)

Last night we watched a memorable, and if you like poetry, unforgettable film called Paterson. It's about a bus driver who writes poetry, and it is set, of course, in Paterson, NJ., which is the locale of William Carlos Williams' epic poem known as Paterson. (Nota bene: Williams is, in a way, a subtle character in the film.)

Also, I might refer any interested parties to a previous post which featured The Red Wheelbarrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This Is Just To Say

William Carlos Williams, 1883 - 1963

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold