"The Log of Christopher Columbus"
to my father in October of 1988.
My father wrote the date in the front of his book.
I am glad he did. I am reading this log today.
It has always seemed strange to me
to celebrate the arrival of Christopher Columbus.
I think there must be many who do not.
The date has changed too.
Now it is the second Monday in October.
A more convenient day for shopping and a bank holiday.
In 2001, my husband and I took a road trip. We were viewing fall foliage.
We drove the Great River Road, beginning outside of St. Louis, Missouri, and on up into Wisconsin. The road is adjacent to the Mississippi River. A lovely trip.
Our return route home took us through a small town, Dickeyville, Wisconsin.
Here we saw Holy Ghost Park. An amazing church yard that was filled with grottoes. One shrine was to Christopher Columbus.
The photo album of this trip is on my coffee table in October.
I have small metal sculptures of Columbus's fleet, the Pinta, the Nina and the Santa Maria.
A friend gave them to me years ago. We once went shopping together on Wednesdays.
There came a time when it was no longer convenient to do so.
I think of her when I set out the little ships.
A pleasant gentle shower.
The wild violets are blooming again.
Early Autumn is like late Spring.
I laid my book down and took off my shoes.
I wanted to walk in the wet grass.