27 March 2008. Gray skies, ocean air. Sound of waves at night, played against march of inland road. Green wooden bird feeder, rustic, with pitched roof, tiny hole in back, on spider-webby metal pole, surrounded by dense leaves of the staghorn fern, just visible through screen. Pitch of eucalyptus, beyond, climbing skyward, delicate branches arced and tracing.
Last night: Jack and company, tucked into their Calypso corner. Bonne hommie all around. Henri at the back table with French friends , surf board and scallop shell decor. Early Calypso (as in Belafonte) as opposed to that of Titan's daughter on Ogygia's shores. She promised eternal life--if only he would stay--but Odysseus built a small boat, set sail, Ithaca bound...
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