Another page from the blue notebook, this one fresher in These titles mean nothing.

5 am on the deck, not quite light enough to see my writing or the pale blue lines. I write by feel.
Sky lightening behind the barn and the walnuts. Bands of pale color and cloud above the eastern horizon.
Cows.
Gracie licking.
Birds announcing Tuesday, claiming their place in the world.

Little later, little more light.
Damp deck planks.
Thinking coffee and milk in a pint glass.

Mother and daughter walnuts.
EHK - my father’s aunt.
EKH - y father’s cousin.

Symmetry just noticed.

I like being here with the Esthers.

Neither EHK or EKH are good logging trees. Mother EHK vases out 20 feet up into three stalks, the central one into two more. It has vague symmetry like the initials but its far from perfect. Daughter EKH may have a taller trunk, but it splits and branches randomly, no plan or logic.

There is a third walnut directly south, younger of course, perhaps KH_. I don’t remember her last name. She wen to school with Tony. Joana would remember her too. I’ll ask. She lives in California. She visited a number of times. Her husband played the piano and wanted the gun. I want to say Huntington Beach but that sounds too rich for anyone related to me or to the farm. Though perhaps his family did something for or about yachts - so maybe KH_ did find gold in California.

EHK is geriatric. EKH i s in her prime. KH_ is young.

Walnuts are tall trees, demanding trees, messy and poisonous to those who do not love them. Luckily, I love them.