Sticks and stones, ivy and conifers, patience and stillness, oblivious to outside world. Come walk with us.
Remembering, forgetting, sleep, no sleep, letting go, understanding, not understanding, the horizon in front of me....
I've been mulling over the ordinary things in life: my pen and paper, cold water, the tomato and eggplant. They transform as soon as I take notice, revealing something extraordinary.
the beauty and sorrow of life, hand in hand...
I'm thinking we need a signal, some indication or sign that you are vaccinated. A V sign? A happy dance?
A year ago I jotted down a list of "silver linings" in an effort to get through a quarantine I thought would last just weeks! They haven't quite dulled to a tarnish... but here's how they look before and now.
I spent the week before our February snowstorm waiting for its arrival, watching weather reports with amusement and excited anticipation. Maybe a little dread. The ten-day predictions changed every few hours, from a few inches of snow to the extreme of eight inches one day and eleven the next, then dialing it back again. Extreme for Portland anyway. I was just waiting, checking the weather the way I used to doom scroll for the daily news - what disaster is in store today? This was way more fun however than waking up thinking, what has he tweeted today?
I am too quick to anger, too prone to tears, trigger happy and ready to hate, scorn, and yes, wish ill to those who ascribe to viewpoints I see as harmful to people, to our nation, and the world at large.
The sun glistens on the water, wild daisies shimmer in the breeze near my feet, and the warmth from the rock seeps into my hips. Tiny waves lap on the rocky shore. A stand-up paddler passes, barely a wake behind her, and I wonder in this quiet, do I really want this quarantine to end?
There are cozy havens everywhere I walk... I imagine what it feels like to sit there, and think about how the changes around us compel us to make these new refuges.