"July Mountain"

The Fourth of July was beautiful in Seattle.  "Not a cloud in the sky," save for a few stray puffs to the west over the distant, still-snowy Olympic Mountains.  All else was cornflower blue, blue-green, and green.  At times, things do fall into place.  For a moment.

               July Mountain

We live in a constellation
Of patches and of pitches,
Not in a single world,
In things said well in music,
On the piano, and in speech,
As in a page of poetry --
Thinkers without final thoughts
In an always incipient cosmos,
The way, when we climb a mountain,
Vermont throws itself together.

Wallace Stevens, "Late Poems (1950-55)," Collected Poetry and Prose (Library of America 1997).

                         Charles Sheeler, "Bucks County Barn" (1932)