Sunday, February 12, 2017

Week in Seven Words #329

apiary
I don't know about the beekeeping on the premises until suddenly there are clouds of them around box hives on each side of the path. The part of my brain that isn't screaming reminds me that conserving bees is important, so isn't this wonderful? So wonderful.

cames
Petals lit up like stained glass in the low-slanting afternoon light.

ossicones
A man and child dressed as giraffes are reading by a pond. They could be characters from the picture book spread out between them.

parried
The ambulance circles through the cemetery's front drive, to where an old woman sits with her head in her hands on a bench. The EMTs kneel beside her for awhile. Eventually, she waves them off and leaves under her own power.

picking
On a search for a subway platform that isn't blocked by construction, I walk through a part of the city new to me. The buildings are indistinct in afternoon haze. A man on a stoop toys with a guitar.

rooted
Leaves and blossoms draped over weathered stone. Small American flags on a bright yellow lawn.

vexation
He's at my elbow, telling me I'm taking photos of the wrong things. "What's so interesting about that? Take a picture of this! See?"

3 comments:

Brian Joseph said...

I love what you wrote in regards to "apiary." I personally know a few beekeepers. It is a wonderful thing to do for a lot of reasons. But when I see the hives, I feel as you do :)

Roderick Robinson said...

OK, you like fingering words as if they were worry beads. So do I. But have you considered their gradations?

We start with 700 words, the basic vocabulary which ensures we remain functional and, to some extent, stay alive in this hazardous twenty-first century.

An extra 1000 words and we're equipped to read most whodunnits, the less demanding newspapers, and the instructions for operating a central heating systems.

Another 1000 words and we can tackle The Guardian (much more allusive than the NYT) and undemanding so-called "modern literary" novels like those of Frantzen (I've forgotten his first name).

Watershed One. We make a calculated decision to go the Eng. Lit. route which means being comfortable with the 18th and 19th century canon and a whole lot of obsolete stuff, plus contorted syntax. Say 2000 words.

Watershed Two. Often an alternative to Watershed One. Takes in hard stuff (philosophy, science, sport viewed intellectually, bad translations from foreign languages). 5000 words.

Cryptic crossword addiction. The sky's the limit. Hardly adds anything to one's conversational abilities. Ossicone exists only in this territory.

Dictionary compilation.

HKatz said...

@ Brian - thanks! Beekeeping is something I support from a distance of at least forty feet.

@ Roderick - maybe we'll be able to survive the 21st century by grunting and pointing. And where else am I going to use ossicones? I'm not a zoologist. Can't just drop it into shoptalk. My conversational abilities are already shaky, and I rarely do crosswords of any kind.