canada

hot, humid, not complaining, often walking the beach path in the far north of Scotland I long for more heat. Here it is. Nights of sleeping with no bed covers, the cicadas in the pine trees, and I'd rather that than air conditioning. North America, of so much is thrown away, why walk when you can drive, why get hot and sweaty when you can turn up the a.c. why wash a cup when you can use a paper one and throw it away. And yet amid this abundance in what money can buy I find the words don't come. OK I'm not here to spend hours writing but it was only for half an hour in some hip little cafe in Toronto in a neighborhood where the black guys were playing backgammon on the street that I could suddenly write. So do I write into the gap, I asked myself, walking the block.
perhaps
as you see - not very inspiring - but hot - new - different
xxx