“Sounds” – My breath. Panting as I propped up the walls of my shelter. I didn’t even hear the train to Concord because I was so focused on building. You can only hear what you happen to be listening to, or else the sound of building ate up the sound of the train.
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“Morton’s Pond” (XV)
“Sights”: My home in ruins. Blown to the ground by last night’s storm. No more cracks where the wind made noise. No more shade. No shelter. Just a heap of boards. And the wet ground.
“Morton’s Pond” (XIV)
“Smells” – Rain on the wind. Another storm approaching. And something I don’t recognize. Possibly the smell of a deer tick. But I’ve never smelled a deer tick before, so I can’t be sure. I suppose you can’t be sure of what you’re smelling until you are.
“Ditto finds a pencil” (II)
Well, said Virginia, no one in Concord is missing a pencil. No, said Ditto, they looked at us like we were crazy. I guess people don’t use pencils anymore, said Virginia. No, said Ditto, I guess not. What’ll we do with it? said Virginia. If we save it, said Ditto, it might become an antique. An antique? said Virginia. Yes, said Ditto, like putt putt boats, cassette tapes, and common courtesy. And people would travel for miles to see it? said Virginia. Yes, said Ditto, and we’d keep it behind glass, and rent headphones to explain its history. So the tourists would know what to think? said Virginia. Yes, said Ditto, and realize how important it is, and not complain about the admission fee. Visitors would come to Concord from all over the world! said Virginia. Yes, said Ditto, they would.
“Ditto finds a pencil” (I)
What is it? said Virginia. It’s a pencil, said Ditto. A pencil? Yes, said Ditto. Who does it belong to? said Virginia. I don’t know, said Ditto, we’d better take it to town and ask around.
“Morton’s Pond” (XIII)
“Sights”: Sunshine through the clouds. Silver drops on the leaves and ground. Wet tree bark. Mud and bits of leaves on my hooves and ankles. Patches of blue spilled on the lake.
“Morton’s Pond” (X)
“Sights” – Clouds. Lots of clouds. Then one big cloud. A cloud that covered the whole lake and maybe even the world. Everything was whitish grey. It erased the shadows of the leaves and trees. I suppose it sucked them into itself which is why the cloud was dark in spots. It also sucked up sounds. The train wasn’t as noisy, and the birds sang a lower pitch.
“Frank visits Concord” (V)
Crows are messengers of the dead? said Ditto. Yes, said Virginia, that’s what my uncle said. Dead humans or dead donkeys? said Ditto. Dead humans, said Virginia. Hmm, said Ditto, I wonder which animals are messengers of dead crows?
“Frank visits Concord” (I)
Nevermore? Isn’t that a bit pessimistic?
“Morton’s Pond” (V)
“Sounds” – Birds. The wind. The sloshing of the pond against the shore. And the sound of an airplane. I think it was from an airplane. Because I didn’t hear the sound when I first saw the plane, then I heard the sound and saw the plane, then I didn’t see the plane but I still heard the sound. Maybe the wind blows sound like it blows shadows.