The Trickster

At work. Time for a cigarette but the head cashier was paying far too much attention. So, I walked down to lumber and out one of their doors, slid behind a parked truck. The lumber lot is empty and looks onto a road and abandoned areas. I was looking at the sky when something lower caught my eye. There are abandoned railroad tracks behind the building.... dark and uninhabited. And from that came a Coyote, the first I've ever seen in the wild.

It took me a moment..... and he must have smelled me because he stopped. He looked like a large German Shepherd, but no.... Coyote watching me watch him.... and my heart soared and I tentatively moved forward... and he moved away. Crossed the road, and looked back. And I regarded him.

There was a 'connection' in that moment. I have felt it before. It is a stillness and yet a wildness, and I am both with it and unable to touch it. Sometimes it seems that if I could jettison my thoughts... my spirit/heart might understand and take over and I would know something that eludes me now.

OCCUPY by Peggy Fitzsimmons

What We Forget

When you live by the water.... if you're not careful... the sound of it can become so ingrained, that it's ignored. Maybe like the wind in the trees. Or birdsong.

Or, three times a day you can walk down the steps... faced with a vast sea of blue, or brown or gray and not see it... besieged as you are by daily minutiae... jaded as you are because, well... it's always there.

And then some nights... most, really... while in bed, you find yourself rocked by the moonlit view and the rhythm.

................

Tonight I was walking Meander. It was late enough for the neighborhood to be quiet, and I wasn't paying attention to more than my own thoughts.

And then there was a familiar sound that made me stop. A slow, triple 'shish'... 'shish'.... 'shish' -long pause, and then the heavy heaving of a large wave upon the rocks. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

I have wanted to forget because it's just too painful not being with the water. For the most part, I have. But hearing that tonight? I don't know if it was joy or anguish.

Bittersweet is too small a word.

And this is why I do what I do....

http://vimeo.com/vorobyoff/flowers

The Vague Things I Remember

It had to be 1977, because that's when we met and married and for all intents and purposes, went our separate ways.

We were driving home from my father's house... down a dark and empty interstate... 30 miles, and it was night. There was a full moon. We felt close and insulated, in the car and the dark and our new, different life together.

The night was steeped in darkness, except for this sharp, brilliant moon... the way the world was before we lit it up. He was driving and said he was uncomfortable. The moon was shining into the car from the south, and right on him. I was in shadow. He said this type of moonlight made him jittery, that it always had. To me, the moon was the moon.

My handsome, gay husband could be dramatic when it suited the situation, but this wasn't one of those times. He was uncomfortable. I talked about the moon with him, and as he described it's crystalline light, that could maybe be shattered with the flick of a finger... I could somehow understand it. There WAS a difference to it that night. A brightness, sharpness, an almost emotional distance... so different from the soft moonlight I had always noticed.

Eventually he pulled the car over to the side and asked me to drive. I did, and kept waiting for the moon to ambush me, even though I knew this was his craziness.

............

Years later, taking a night walk... I felt the moon his way, like cool metal to the skin.

There are so many quotes about the moon. One of my favorites is, "The moon is shining down her wisdom, Girl."

But that night, and tonight and a few nights in between it's 'The moon's a harsh mistress. She's hard to call your own."

Men Can Fly Too....

Happy New Year - Auld Lang Syne by Sissel (Live).wmv

And one more. It's worth the time.