When you can hear the rain but can't see it

My tendency to sing full volume in the shower has started cropping up during bucket baths. My family probably gets a good laugh.

My memory has a special place for colors.

I need to go swimming at the lake again, and this time take my snorkeling gear.

Sometimes I get a sensation in my nose when I look at people. It's not what they actually smell like. More the memory, or maybe a “prediction” or guesstimate, of a smell conjured up by/about their appearance. It doesn't happen all the time, and it's not always a bad smell or anything like that. It's just that for one reason or another my mind connects the idea of them up with a certain smell. Maybe I'll give some examples sometime.

Traveling from place to place like this feels like waking from one dream into another.

I remember one night, back at the Manor (Jamestown), I had a dream that it was morning and my mom came into our (Aaron and I) apartment room at school, which was strange but didn't seem out of place during the dream, to tell us that breakfast was ready. I could smell the glory of cinnamon rolls wafting in with her, and thought: yum, cinnamon roles! Then I actually woke up. I lie in bed for a moment relishing the rich sunlight of Saturday morning pouring through the window, thinking about how nice yet random a dream that was, when Aaron rolled over in his bed and said: mmmmm, cinnamon roles. Apparently he had bought some Pillsbury ones earlier that week, which aren't as good as Mom's but miraculous enough, and happened to wake up in the mood. So we had cinnamon roles for breakfast.

I smelled deep, rich dirt this week for the first time in . . . well, awhile. There are times when I really miss working in the yard, or on the ranch or even construction. It feels good to work the land. I went up with Tat Lu to his terreno (land) Tuesday morning. I actually woke up at five to watch the sunrise behind the mountains visible from the backyard. It's nice to watch the world awaken and open like an eye, the shadows slowly “stand up” until they vanish. The ducks and chickens and the chucho (dog) all gradually stirred and wandered, chattered up water from puddles and pestered the pretty, yellow millipedes, while I sat under the peach tree and did some reading/writing. I found some poems in the Best American 2008 that blew my mind. Then I went up with Tat Lu to see his corn. It's beautiful up there. There's a terrific view of the lake, tons of wild flowers and towering, elegant Cyprus trees. The corn is coming along great. Sometimes animals try to dig up the infant plants and eat them, so whenever he finds one that he can tell has been dug around he constructs a little shelter for it. Tat Lu love's his land. Ramona, his wife, bought it for them. He and one other guy work the corn together. I guess he has some beans too, and an avacado tree. According to Mayan tradition, people were made from corn. Well, first the gods tried a couple of other things like mud and wood, but none of them worked out. Corn is a big deal for them. He kept calling it the santa milpa, and he brings up candles to burn under a tree in his fields for protection. He showed me around and then went to work. I hung out for awhile down by where he leaves his horse, Canela, to feed and just enjoyed the view and watched her graze. Supposedly she's pregnant. Horses are such impressive/beautiful animals. I thought of “All the Pretty Horses.” All that was missing was Penelope Cruise. Haha. But it's strange to me that horses lend themselves to man's uses with a little “encouragement.” I guess maybe they were made for us, but I'd like to meet a horse that never breaks, or doesn't have to be “broken.” Eventually Tat Lu came down and sat with me for a bit. Then a couple of guys came up and started arguing with him. Apparently the land where the horse was grazing is under dispute. Tat Lu says the real owner of the land lives in Santa Clara. They've been good friends for years, and he doesn't have a problem with Tat Lu grazing his horse on the land while he works. But some guy came up from San Pablo, maybe San Juan, and pretended like he owned the land and sold it to these two guys. It's being disputed in court right now, but the two guys don't want Tat Lu's horse grazing on “their” land, or at least not grazing on it until they figure things out. At least that's what I gathered. Most of it was in Quiche. They got pretty upset, but Tat Lu stayed impressively calm; “Only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned.” One of them had his zipper down the whole time, and I almost interrupted to point it out, to throw a small wrench in the conversation and see what would happen. But I didn't. My sense of humor isn't exactly Guatemalan. I just smiled and took some pictures of dew on grass blades, occasionally straightening my straw hat whenever the view from the hill felt crooked. It's also kind of interesting that people own bits of land all in the same area and everyone ends up traipsing through everyone else's land to get to theirs. While I was looking out at the lake from the disputed lands, this whole family came cruising up the mountainside, each person with a big load of firewood tied to their backs. There's also a strap that comes around the forehead and they walk leaning forward. Even the youngest kid had his little load. So they all come up the mountain and walk right through a bunch of land owned by various people. And people use that area as a mirador (lookout) all the time, as if it were public. A very popular spot for guys to bring their girlfriends to after school. Nothing like a breathtaking view to induce the vertigo of love, to make you feel like the whole world lies ahead of you and nothing and no one behind you . . . Except for the gringo poet on his burgundy tarp reading Mary Oliver and watching the fog roll in overhead.

I started reading Hamlet that night, and, strangely enough, it kind of starts out with a land dispute. Then later that night, at the Internet place, I went to pay the guy up at the counter and right in front of me in a glass case was a candy bar called “Hamlet.” Haha. I took it to Andy's where we did a little picture-exchange + hangout night, and split it with him. It wasn't the tastiest. I think it was a little old.

On the way back from working with Tat Lu I played some soccer with Juan Antonio, a lone kid just kicking a ball in the street. I think I'm getting better? And I guess some guys entered us in a basketball tournament that starts this weekend. Oh boy.

“I faded away along with my thoughts, and like a train in the night trailed off mystically.” ~Sun Kil Moon, Like the River