My Blog List

Thursday, June 15, 2017


I saw a sign, which revived a name associated with this place since the Benson family trekked across the continent to homestead in this valley. If the Bensons have moved on, the place and the name survives. Locally, the Benson name conjures tales of identical twins reduced to a diet of shoe leather in Death Valley, of Pomo artistry at the 1904 St. Louis World's Fair, of witness to a historical massacre, cultural mediation, racial blending, narrow escapes from grizzly bears, and the farming of pears.

Bill, the lawn mower repair master has died, leaving behind his self-made memorial pile of mowers, which appear to rival the floral tributes left for Princess Diana. As an artist ages and contemplates death, he might wonder if his own life's work will end up similarly.

 Charles Demuth's, My Egypt, his painting of totemic mid-western grain elevators, came to mind as I walked by the pear and walnut packing sheds.

A couple of vultures attended the victim of vehicular fox slaughter. They risked their own lives for a meal in the road. I moved the fox well away on the shoulder.

The oak has seen the little town of Kelseyville grow up around it in the past 150 years.