Give me the green of summer
or rather, the blues. That was what the cataract sunglasses did. My dollar store sun glasses make the world look like photos from childhood rather than the sky of childhood itself, but it's still good. Erases the light pollution haze, deepens the greens to blue and the blues nearly to black. Climbing up the stairs from the beach at the cottage, into the green-black trees with deep blues peeking between them as they rustled in the (constant) wind from the lake. Also the streets that skirted Toshima-en in Tokyo, deep in green shadows (why there'd be trees near an amusement park, I don't know, but that's how I remember it), gold filtering through, sound of the invisible semis' piercing min-min-min-miiin. A long ago time.
Pulled some books from the increasingly musty-smelling cellar, including Homage to the Haiku Masters, which I read Sunday night and then discarded, partly because of the smell, partly because it fell to pieces in my hands, partly because a Basho haiku doesn't really need to be expanded into eight lines of rhymed verse, though it's an interesting exercise. If you can't write haiku and can write rhymes, then rephrase the haiku, I guess. But as Clough said himself, it's something you'd do to amuse yourself.
Register today as something of a triumph, in that I swept up the cherries to date, made fish and rice, started filling out my application for tax deferral (and discovered my assessment is lower than I'd thought, enough to allow me to apply for cancellation.) Best of all, I figured out how to stop LJ's nav strip from cutting off the date at the top of my page. Also discovered, alas, that LJ now cuts you off at view=100 on one's FL, which strikes me as more than a little ketchi of them.