Just as Nut Swallowed the Sun


Saw a resurrected

Crepuscular blue

Rag-top Falcon, ’62

Can’t be certain

But I do believe

Bumper sticker read

“Ankh if you love Isis”


–Robert Lee Haycock



This paragraph from Nabokov’s “Speak Memory” came to mind: “Summer ‘soomerki’–the lovely Russian word for dusk. Time: a dim point in the first decade of this unpopular century. Place: latitude 59° north from your equator, longitude 100° east from my writing hand. The day would take hours to fade, and everything–sky, tall flowers, still water–would be kept in a state of infinite vesperal suspense, deepened rather than resolved by the doleful moo of a cow in a distant meadow or by the still more moving cry that came from some bird beyond the lower course of the river, where the vast expanse of a misty-blue sphagnum bog, because of its mystery and remoteness, the Rukavishnikov children had baptized America.”  –Carolyn Waggoner



Dusk in the Dive Bar

I’m fortunate enough to live near the most obscure road house on earth, The Cruzon Inn.  We usually call it The Dive Bar. Most often the t.v. or stereo is on, fueled (along with the lamps) by the Honda 2000 Fella keeps in good condition. There is rarely food, but Fella is always serving tea and often beer or wine. Now and then the generator quits for its own reasons, and if it’s just Fella and I we’ll leave it sit for awhile and rest while we enjoy the quiet. It’s almost always twilight in the dive bar.  One skylight remains (but needs to be covered due to leaking) and two small north facing windows let in just enough light to feel like dusk. He will dry some bar glasses and mugs and watch the meandering cats with careful attention.  I like to sit in the glider by the north east window at such moments, staring out at cedar and fir trunks while I watch the steady, natural light. A seemingly permanent twilight allows my thoughts to migrate at their own pace and pleasure. So much to think about and reflect on, really, when one allows the soft quiet of twilight to linger, momentarily eschewing technology. Thanks, Fella, for indulging me.  –Carolyn M. Crane




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Posted on

October 17, 2016


  1. Kim Bateman

    Wonderful! Such fun. Robert’s made me smile. Carolyn W.’s –I am hearing the doleful moo. And Carolyn C. I want to hang out with you at that place!

    • Carolyn Crane

      It is fun to play We Write About Words! Thank you Kim. And I will try to get you in next time you visit.


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