9 October 2009. Low gray clouds, churning...
Talk of colors, adjustments and compensations. A row of oak trees on a Palo Alto Street, removed of a morning...
The history of loss. And the words for longing: añoranza, anhelo, saudade... The latter from Beatriz, sitting with me in the window on Solano, a little more than a year ago. Of Portuguese fishermen, setting out to sea, their wives alone on the beach, some of them weeping, as the boats disappear on the sea...
Succoth, a time of joy, autumn moon...
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