Tuesday every week is "Masa Day". I leave the house before dawn under a crystal cerulean sky, urged by a cold wind toward the fire in the outdoor kitchen, where all night a gigantic cauldron of corn kernels has been simmering. I scoop out kernels to wash at the outdoor sink. At one point I looked up and saw about twenty hens, plus a few pullets, in neat rows staring at me, like they were expecting me to give them a lecture on cosmology. And then I realized that what I was handling is poultry gold - nice fat juicy kernels of corn! Abashed, I talked to them about galactic resonance while I washed the kernels, but they fell to drinking the white starchy water that poured out of the sink drain, and ceased to evidence any interest in astronomical considerations.
Posted on: Tue, 10 Sep 2013 12:34:59 +0000
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