13 April 2010. Birds calling at dawn, over Solano, Javed's gulls...
To fed the poor, the animal kind. A brace of squirrels, tohee and jay. Their box of seeds, peanuts scattered under lemon tree, wobbly water bowl. Family...
Or three women, small boat, in a Russian woods. Auden's line. Or Okudzhava's--On the Smolensk Road. "Po Smolenskoj doroge--lesá, lesá, lesá..."
The terrible reach of history simply won't let go. Gaby wrote me this morning of someone who died on that plane--"a very very dear friend of mine. I still can't believe it..."
How close we were to all of this, and at the same time, how far...
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