Turning Tides

His voice was heavy with sarcasm. So much so that it was impossible to trust the words he said. The undertone of frustration and annoyance, that to his credit he tried to conceal, negated anything resembling the peace offering that he was currently making.

It's difficult to counter that kind of contempt, she thought. So she opted for silence. At least until she could detect that his high-wire emotions were beginning to wear thin. Knowing him, she knew his anger would not be sustained for long. Hell, he was after all attempting an apology. Not a good one, but just the same she appreciated the effort and knew it was more than she deserved. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, pleased she had not thrown fuel on his flames.

Soon the bluster of fury came to an end. The tempo changed and they both held onto the silence for a moment.

“I love you baby” she whispered into the phone. And those words seemed to ring so true in that moment it was hard to hold onto anything else.

“Me too. I love you too.” And it was impossible to imagine that anything in the world could keep them apart.

Greater than the Moon

They sat in the shadow of the full moon's light. And when she looked up it was ringed by a prism halo, spilling colours that were generally difficult to see in the dark. And it shone so bright the other stars forgot to shine.

“Do you ever wonder how we made it this far?” His hand tightened around hers and he pulled her in a little closer. Knowing she was prone to asking existential questions, he hesitated to give an answer. “Yes” he finally acknowledged, as though that one word might be enough when in reality he had no idea what she was probing for.

“Really? Cause I have no clue!” And with that she laid herself out across his lap, hugging his knees to her chest. “But somehow we did it. All these years and here we are.”

He kissed her on the forehead, lingering for just an extra second to smell her hair. And he wondered, albeit to himself, how the gods had chosen him to love her. Somewhere, somehow he expected there must be a plan greater than the moon.

Running

It rained for most of today but is now clearing quickly and the air is drying out in a hurry. Right at this moment the grass and trees still have that dewy wet vibrancy but the sky is hopefully blue beyond them.

Earlier, I ran for what felt like an eternity along the old train tracks, well beyond the bridge. It just felt so good I couldn't seem to stop. The air was heavy and saturated on my skin. a smile welled from deep in me and I laughed out loud at just how ridiculous it was to be all alone on this little path, sailing with the wind and sensing that not even the lotto could have enticed me to do something different. I think I might be happiest for my overwhelming wonder in all of this.

Of course you were there with me. I laughed because your ghost steps were unable to keep up with mine, but you did your best to shadow me anyway. We continued our conversation. I reassured you that it is okay to feel uncomfortable, dare I say... afraid even. Too much vulnerability takes its toll, trust me I know. You immediately postured that you're NOT afraid, with that devil may care smile and ego taller than the Trump building on 5th Ave (I've been there and it's as soaring as they say but still impossible to imagine while having lived a life so close to the ground). I had to stop for just a bit to catch my breath, because I was once again laughing at your expense, in that deeply familiar sort of way we all want to be loved and accepted.

You scowled and kissed me. As though to teach me a lesson. At least that is what I hoped you might have done...

Imagined

stolen away

hidden pieces

that I sometimes wish

could not be seen

and yet could

remain

visible, transparent

unlocked with my smile

beguiling,

innocence long lost

a word

a touch

intertwined

undone

Walking

One thing I do a lot of when I'm home is walk. I can't seem to get enough, even though I take the same path every time. Today I wandered through the cemetery. This is the headstone of my great-grandfather. Sadly his first wife, Laura, my grandfather's mother died of the plague when he was just a little boy. Sadly, Evelyn, I'm told was not much for cuddling. And wouldn't you know, she outlived them all!

My grandparents are at rest beneath this stone. Art was always "Art" and she was my Nanny. I still miss them both and often expect to open the kitchen door and find Art sitting on the woodshed steps, smoking his pipe.

The old train bridge which is now part of a trail system.

This is the school my mom has been principal at for the last 5 years. This was its last year in operation. No word yet as to what this building will become next.

And last but not least, our family home. It was build somewhere between 1882 and 1887. For years it was white with a red roof. My mother courageously changed it a couple of years ago to this, and I think this is what it should have been all along. The veranda is a great place to sit and ponder! Which the Mitchell's have now been doing for a little over a hundred years.

At Home

I'm home. Last night I enjoyed playing around with my camera, watching the shadows and setting sunlight reflecting in shallow pools of water. There is a contentedness in me that gets recharged here. I carry it to other places, but this is the root. This is where it springs from.

A self-portrait from the rocks.

This just might be up there with the best photo I've ever been in the right place at the right time to take! Love love love the clouds on the water. As a kid I couldn't wait for the low water so I could dance on the exposed rocks, jumping from one to another as far out into the river as possible without getting my feet wet.

When I was twelve, I swore this bank was 25 feet hight (now I'm quite certain it is closer to 12 ~ LOL) and I would scale it like Mt. Everest. I want to live on permanent vacation. At least until I'm sick of it. :)

Embers

Night has fallen. I traded in my laptop for pen and paper and the great outdoors. Firelight to write by interrupted only by stargazing and the gurgling joy of a river that seems to know exactly where she is going.

And I have it all to myself. Not even an inkling to share. My thoughts have become a blur and are now undecipherable. But I have fallen into some bliss and am proceeding to slather myself in it like butter on the first corn cob of the season.

The fire is consuming itself and I'm committed to staying until only embers remain. Why is it that complications seem less relevant at night? These swirling metaphors of fire making me laugh out loud. Then I get pulled a million miles high into a web of sparkling universe above me. It's mesmerizing. For a while I'm right there floating in it. Pulled in. Playing with more fire in a cosmic sea.

You Who Never Arrived

An open window in a country house ~ and you almost stepped out pensive to meet me. Streets that I chanced on, you had just walked down them and vanished. And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors were still dizzy with your presence and startled gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows, perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, spearate in the evening...

Rainer Maria Rilke

Summer

It is almost midnight and I'm sitting on my parents' veranda, watching and listening to the last remnants of vehicles pass through this little town. The temperature is still above 20 and I'm loving the warmth of this summer night.

I love summer. Don't know if I ever told you that but it is my favorite of the seasons. Summer reminds me that I must slow down and enjoy life, take special care to embrace the warmth and the sun and freedom of doing what I want to do when I want to do it. My mom is a teacher so ever since I was a kid summer was always a free flow kind of time. No rush, no hurry. Just long days designed for reading books and swimming in the river. It is nice to lose yourself that way for a while.

Time

I'm settled for a bit. Sitting in a comfy chair at my parents', thinking that finally there is time to sit and be still. And write. I just finished a 5k walk in the rain and feel refreshed from the cool moist air. Everything looks a little extra lush and green against the grey back drop of sky and river. I don't mind, rain and grey holds its own beauty which is just less obvious than other days.

Two weeks into summer. Going so fast. Over the next few days I want to slow down, breathe, explore some yoga and meditation. Bring life back down to zero. I've been reading a book called Freedom by Osho. And it is challenging my thoughts so I want time to absorb the lessons and ideas.

While in San Francisco last week we visited the Museum of Modern Art ~ SFMoMA. Very inspired to have been up close and personal with some of the same art that is a jumping off point for my own classroom art projects. Paul Klee (pronounced Clay) is a favorite of mine and I have to say that viewing some of his original works from only two feet away gave me a connectedness I wasn't expecting. All I could think was these are his strokes. And I was a little blown away.

Another exhibit that really resonated with me was a wall of photos done in a series of vertical groupings of three pictures. Each grouping showed the same trio of women photographed over time ~ young adult, middle age, senor ~ teardrops fell of their own accord and I was at a loss to stop them ~ we are all in time's grip, it waits for no one and forgets no one. Some photos showed lives well lived and others that just managed to get by. It reminded me that this lifetime is very short, a vapor in the cosmic ripple. YET we are all knitted together, PAST, PRESENT and FUTURE. And when my heart experiences the world, it isn't just my own, it is the shared lives of all ~ even the people I will never know, looking back at me from a photo wall of time.

We need more, not less, art in our lives. And make the time to appreciate and reflect on the people brave enough in the world to give themselves over to a life of passions ~ the painter, the poet, the sage.

And I don't want to be afraid to be those things myself. Or share with you who I am, so that we can be that connectedness too. What else is there.