Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Harlan Hubbard

Coming in December, 2013
The Road Home is Always a River
Kathy Walden Kaplan
In the cool December of 1946, writer and painter Harlan Hubbard and his musician wife Anna climbed on board their homemade shantyboat and began a five-year odyssey on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, drifting slowly all the way from Cincinnati to the bayous of Louisiana. 

Inspired by the works of Henry Thoreau, Harlan and Anna sought a simpler life close to nature. What they found was a river full of beauty, legions of new  friends, and the adventure of a lifetime.

A newly compiled account of the Hubbards' voyage, The Road Home is Always a River includes information from recently-discovered letters written by Anna Hubbard and from Harlan’s journals, his letters, and from his most famous work, Shantyboat: A River Way of Life.

Friday, July 5, 2013

Yesterday the Fox Flew (from the journal)

There was a deer here last night.
The pokeweed is gone,
nibbled to a nubbin.  6-1-13

What is the one thing?  Breathing.
This morning even the warm breeze
breathes.  6-1-13

The first 17-year cicada sings.
He’s far away and
there is no answer.  6-2-13

The drowsy squirrel rouses
when the hawk flies
under his branch.  6-4-13

Sharon’s shadow falls flat.
Myrtle’s shadow falls sideways.
My shadow doesn’t fall at all.  6-4-13

Cut off from earth and water,
a garland of round greenbrier leaves
lives on air.  6-5-13

Catbird is chasing
mockingbird in the crab apple.
Swallowtail gets out of the way.  6-8-13

A drop of white poop
from the thick spot in the hedge.
Wren, not moving.  6-8-13

Swallowtail has found
all the vine honeysuckle
I missed. 6-11-13

Columbine’s seed pods
are turning brown, the same
color as the little chipmunk
that walked over my toe.  6-12-13

Cold today.
Blue jay complains.
Catbird is quiet.  6-19-13

Rock cress mustard is finished now.
Columbine has the pot to herself.  6-19-13

Columbine’s leaves rust over
the rain-pocked chalk.
Patio table still life.  6-20-13

Two catbirds,
a nest in the thick place
between the two myrtles.
Little calls give it away.  6-23-13

Yesterday the fox flew through twice.
The second time, he stopped
for a drink.  6-25-13

A gray morning.
Redbird speaks.
The first rosy sharon catches a carpenter bee.  6-27-13

The wall of green has a hole. 
It used to be full of stars.  6-29-13