Field guide No. 193
The very formal heron
Black tie, wet socks.
A grey heron in a bow tie wades through a flooded laundromat at sunset, the washing machines lined up beside it. It is waiting for a delicate cycle.
Field noteHerons wade, laundromats flood, bow ties exist. All that is missing is the occasion.
Also possible, also breaking nothing
The dry orchestraConch shells on music stands takes one afternoon and a beach. Strange, not unreal.
Roots under the spare stepRoots take the shape of whatever’s missing, given decades. Slow masonry, but masonry.
Moon leaveBalloons come in every shape, moons included. Sleepiness is printed on, presumably.
Low tide laundryFish-print sheets are a choice, not a contradiction. They simply haven’t been hung here yet.