SJ Rozan

…and then there’s junk in the river. As I’ve said before, one of the great things about the river is that half the time I have no idea what’s going on. Ducks fly in a big hurry from somewhere to somewhere else, and then settle; a big empty barge heads upriver slowly on a Sunday morning; the Coast Guard rushes back and forth, then slows and circles. Or, you might find an entire fruit basket floating in the water with the rest of the debris. Is this the kind of thing you could lose over the side of a boat? Or would you chuck it in like a frisbee? How long had it been there? It was being tossed by impressive waves, too. One orange had floated out and was nearby; otherwise, six grapefruit, an orange, and an apple sloshed around but stayed inside it. I have a good mind to have a caption contest on this one. Yes, okay, go ahead. Best caption wins a copy of my short story collection, A TALE ABOUT A TIGER. Decision of the judges will be arbitrary and final. Post captions here, or on Facebook. Go! <br> <br> <br><a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/23432140@N06/8383214101/” title=”fruit basket in the river by SJ Rozan, on Flickr”><img src=”http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8221/8383214101_1e753f200c.jpg” width=”500″ height=”375″ alt=”fruit basket in the river”></a> <br> <br>

I’m teaching three different times this coming year! Come join me!

Gonna be darkening the mood at the Shade Bar two weeks from tonight — Noir at the Bar returns! Come on down!

Unseen airplane roars <br>Above thick low cloud ceiling. <br>Gives ferry soundtrack. <br> <br>Gulls screech in for bread, <br>Fight over lumps. When it’s gone, <br>Float, hoping for more. <br> <br>Fluorescent sneakers, <br>Green, with matching socks. Runner <br>Waking us all up.

Went out to Brooklyn to interview two curators at the Brooklyn Museum, re: Sam Cabot’s next book. Tell you about that sometime later; meanwhile, since I was there, strolled over to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden next door. A gray day in January can be quite splendid.

Many more on Flickr; just click.

…and a ferry accident. Many people injured, some seriously enough to be hospitalized. The ferry slammed the pier as it was docking. Unclear why — oddly, could have been some nautical variant on wind shear. There’s floating debris all over the place, though, and an Army Corps of Engineers boat trooping around picking up large timbers, etc., that are considered menaces to navigation. That’s on my side — the Hudson — and the accident was over on the east side, so don’t know if it’s the same over there or whether the junk was a factor even if it’s there. Considering the number of ferries that run around NY harbor waters every day, accidents are exceedingly rare. The last major one was in 2003, though the boat involved in that one had another accident in 2010. That was the Staten Island Ferry, part of NYC’s transportation system. Today’s was a private ferry line boat. Hope everyone’s okay.

All hanging out together, spiraling around the big tree, jumping on and off the branches of a little tree and the fence. Two and maybe three of these guys are smaller than the other two — who I’m pretty sure, based on his thick tail and her white ears, are Squirrely and Squeeze — and seem a touch tentative. Is it possible we had a late fall litter after all? The timing’s about right, if they were born toward the end of November, early December. Now that they’ve moved house — original house having fallen spectacularly to the ground — I can’t keep as close an eye on them, but I’m advancing that theory.

Meanwhile, down on the river, the loon’s still here, and the American black ducks; the buffleheads are back, and I saw something else this morning that I think was a ruddy duck. And, of course, seagulls — herring, blackback, and ring-billed — abound. Take stale bread down there, you get a real Hitchcock experience.

Two hurrying geese <br>Skim water’s surface, lift up <br>Over piling field. <br> <br>Wrapped in barnacles, <br>Pilings bristle through river, <br>Crowding into sun. <br> <br>Gulls sit on pilings <br>While starlings sweep, race, land, peck, <br>Eating all the moss. <br> <br> <br> <br> <br>many of my haiku, collected <a href=”http://www.amazon.com/211-HAIKU-ebook/dp/B009E89NO8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1357476912&sr=1-1&keywords=211+haiku” target=”_new”>here</a> for your Kindle

What? No, seriously. This morning, overhead by the river, a gorgeous, clear, and long-lasting circumzenithal arc. I learned about these from Urban Naturalist, though I’d never seen one. They happen when the ice crystals in cirrus clouds are properly aligned. It looks like a partial rainbow curving in the sky, not anchored in the ground. This is similar to what I saw, though not taken by me. Moral: when there are cirrus clouds, look up!

Actually, Sam Cabot hit “send.” BLOOD OF THE LAMB was due on Jan. 1, and on Jan. 1, after I tucked my visitor onto the evening train bound for Newark airport, in it went. 106,850 words, for those of you who’re counting. Nine point of view characters. Seven churches, innumerable cappuccinos, macchiatos, and espressos, and the odd pastry. In the book, I mean. What Carlos and I devoured in the writing and the research doesn’t bear thinking about. Now we re-read for continuity, character development, and bad grammar, while our editor reads to make sure she really wants to publish this book. After which she sends us a long letter about continuity, character development, and bad grammar. Woo-hoo!