23 May 2020. Tending the Fishes.
The call of a single crow—which takes us to a garden far away. Perhaps not quite so far as that of the the Queen of Sheba, on her royal divan, in Yemen it's said, but to the edge of a quiet pool in the great Southland, nonetheless. We’re all gathered, of course, with implements set out for the rescue—the blue pan, just as Melinda would have it, towel and wash, and Jimmy alongside, mildly curious, whereas in the background, la curiosa alongside one of the chickens, looking on, while perched on the green urn, a raven. A friendly raven. And not so far off, on the edge of the planting bed, we see the hoopoe, who's flown in from afar, a letter in hand--from the King no doubt, standing there in the cool of his studio in the North. Is he wearing clothes today? There was a time when not, just his royal nakedness, all exposed, with the visage (even then) of Oscar, his father, and Oscar's smile as well...
We celebrate these happenings. The koi will be cured--ojalá--Jimmy will enjoy a new Petco ball, sweet Odette her long rest there on the slope next to the flowers. Gen is somewhere nearby--the physician's assistant for today--and Adam as well--but the scene here must needs belong to Cinde Lou, the Queen alone...
