April fuels my love affair with low tide.
Like no other element the shore romances -
Face kissed by wind and
Feet hugged by stones
The subtle trickle of ebbing waters
lures me traipsing miles along the edge
of the island.
Eyes dazzled by shimmering waves
fill with tears.
Gratitude and joy that there are
clam shells and eel grass
And sorrow, too, whispers thru me
Our life here is so brief
I cherish this moment before the tide turns
and the flow toward shore begins again.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
From there to here...
Adios southland, hello Nordland of the north.
Cold fingers are a small price to pay for a relaxed
neck and belly. I feel relaxed because the quiet welcomes
and soothes, and the forest looms and reminds me of the
largeness of life.
It is wonderfully stimulating, the transition of travel. A departure prepares us for arrival and our destination gives us plenty of chores to do, items to find, memories to savor.
It is a life style of contrasts - how better to know gratitude than to know the contrasts?
One home is at sea level, damp and green and cool where a forest meets the beach.
The other is amidst a high desert valley, hot and dry and urban.
One place is quiet, the stillness punctuated by sounds of wind and birds calling as they skim the surface of the water or soar the tops of the firs and cedars.
The other place is full of sound, furious with traffic, barking dogs, pounding music and jets and helicopters flying low in and out of the valley.
In one place I wait for weeks and months for the sun to appear and remain long enough for me to seek a few rays in which to bask - the life of flowers is eagerly perused.
In the other place, el lugar del sol muy fuerte todo el dia, I seek shade and admire weeds that grow from ancient adobe walls and roofs, and marvel at enormous trees that feed on the waters of underground streams.
One place has food different from the other.
One place has waterways and the other has one way streets
One place is populated with pale skinned people wearing fleece and socks
And in the other, people bare their skin and their feet and glow toastier shades of tan and brown.
In one place i am not particularly tall or large, an average white middle aged woman among many - my peer group is sizable in the Northwest.
But in the other i am gigantic, grandota, una guera muy alta, la extranjera Norte Americana.
Its fantastic, thank you so much!
Cold fingers are a small price to pay for a relaxed
neck and belly. I feel relaxed because the quiet welcomes
and soothes, and the forest looms and reminds me of the
largeness of life.
It is wonderfully stimulating, the transition of travel. A departure prepares us for arrival and our destination gives us plenty of chores to do, items to find, memories to savor.
It is a life style of contrasts - how better to know gratitude than to know the contrasts?
One home is at sea level, damp and green and cool where a forest meets the beach.
The other is amidst a high desert valley, hot and dry and urban.
One place is quiet, the stillness punctuated by sounds of wind and birds calling as they skim the surface of the water or soar the tops of the firs and cedars.
The other place is full of sound, furious with traffic, barking dogs, pounding music and jets and helicopters flying low in and out of the valley.
In one place I wait for weeks and months for the sun to appear and remain long enough for me to seek a few rays in which to bask - the life of flowers is eagerly perused.
In the other place, el lugar del sol muy fuerte todo el dia, I seek shade and admire weeds that grow from ancient adobe walls and roofs, and marvel at enormous trees that feed on the waters of underground streams.
One place has food different from the other.
One place has waterways and the other has one way streets
One place is populated with pale skinned people wearing fleece and socks
And in the other, people bare their skin and their feet and glow toastier shades of tan and brown.
In one place i am not particularly tall or large, an average white middle aged woman among many - my peer group is sizable in the Northwest.
But in the other i am gigantic, grandota, una guera muy alta, la extranjera Norte Americana.
Its fantastic, thank you so much!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Gung Hay Fat Choy!
Best wishes and Congratulations - Have a prosperous and good year.
I am particularly amused with this year, The Chinese New Year of the Rabbit - the Metal Rabbit, to be exact. The last year of the METAL RABBIT was the year I was born in 1951 - little did I know then that I would someday be living in Oaxaca, Mexico asking for red rabbits of the vendors who wave their painted wooden bookmarks and toothpicks at me. A few years back I decided to ask for red rabbits, which at that time seemed to be quite rare. If they had any I would buy them and if they did not then I was off the purchasing hook for the time being. Last year it seemed there were many many more red rabbits for sale. I figured news traveled fast up and down the Andador and all around the Zocalo - "pssst - red rabbits are HOT!". I read this in my astrology today report for the upcoming year:
"Let there be peace, and let it begin with me, is the Rabbit motto." I like the sound of that!
Sunday, January 9, 2011
There are so many places on the planet that I am content to never visit.
Any place with sand fleas is near the top of the list, no matter how picturesque that place may be, like Mexcaltitan in the state of Nayarit, Mexico. How could it not have some kind of pesky vermin, if not sand fleas?
I do remember a time when I longed to wander and it never occurred to me that I might encounter disagreeable factors like malaria or dysentery or bug bites or forest fires or earthquakes or poverty or ignorance or sinus headache. I blithely ventured forth and enjoyed the scenery come what may. Once I put aside the use of alcohol 20 years ago though, I noticed that my comfort zone became more important. Perhaps because there was no longer anything to soften the edges, numb the pain, distract me from accepting the 'what is', I learned to blunt my desire to wander impulsively.
These days I far prefer to enjoy a book than to book a trip of any kind. Picture books are great, my imagination does all the work, and I am satisfied to enjoy short, sweet, sober journeys. El Tajin, anyone?
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