For two and perhaps three weeks, there has been in the gutter on Cal Young Road near its intersection with Gilham Road a rectangular piece of corrugated cardboard, perhaps five by seven inches or rather larger, on one side of which is writing, several lines of writing. When I first noticed it, it was half written side up somehow and half unwritten side up; over the course of time it has been both written side up and written side down. It is closer now to the intersection than it was weeks ago.
I have speculated of course about the contents of the writing: a note, a tiny 'for sale' notice, directions, a list for the grocery or hardware store, a poem, an entry into that 'worst first line of a novel' contest in... Maurice Baring's honor? no, no. Edward Bulwer-Lytton's. Was on the verge of thinking about bending over to pick it up and read earlier, and now I've memorialized it here: tomorrow, if it is still there-- how the rains haven't bedraggled it (it has been a cloudy early morning although Sol is bright now), or the street-cleaning machines torn it into shreds, I don't know-- I will read it in the morning.
From my own point of view "it was a dark and stormy night" and the rest of it doesn't merit opprobrium but then I'm not a writer of elegant 20th or 21st c prose.
Am listening later on to Amandine Beyer, violin, and Gli Incogniti perform Bach in Geneva: concertos for violin and oboe and the Brandenburg Concerto no5 (thus the World Concert Hall site; the Gli Incog site says they are performed a program of Vivaldi-- we shall see). And then at the Chopin Institute's International Music Festival at Warsaw, Yulianna Avdeeva plays Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition after two pieces of Beethoven's, Eroica Variations in E flat major op 35 and his Fantasia in G minor op 77.