Wednesday, October 29, 2014

carry the torch

Is October supposed to look this fresh?
All down the street lawns lie, green as ever.
The sun is slanting down from a summer-blue sky.
Roses still bloom, a haze of pink on branch tips,
while the white anemone flutter like a dozen butterflies.

My pumpkins glowing at the edge of the garden say 'autumn' loud and clear though.
And so do the blueberry bushes.
Blueberry leaves don't just turn color, they flame.
Blueberry bushes carry the torch for Autumn.

gentler on the skin

Sometimes I feel like I'm tumbling in a clothes dryer.
I'm feeling the heat.
I don't know which way is up and which is down.
I'm getting a glimpse out the window from time to time but that's about it.
There are lots of stories that way though.
Life feels very eventful that way.
It's just that if I don't write them down, they become part of the swirling color, going round and round.
And when I finally get to them, some are kind of wrinkled.
Some have shrunk a bit.
But some shake out as fresh as the day they were new.
Better even.
Gentler on the skin.

we did

I wanted to be early.
You know.....that psychological advantage you get from being early, from being able to take your time, to settle in, to get the lay of the land.
And to know for a certainty that you won't be LATE.
I left home in plenty of time.
I drove the fastest route.
I parked as close as I could.
I hastened straight and true to the right floor, and the right room.
Others had clearly felt like I for the room wasn't empty and continued to fill.
I turned on the computer.
I unpacked my textbooks.
I lined up my pencils and eraser.
I signed on to my student account.
I signed on to the library.
I signed on to my favourite data base.
I signed in and signed in.
There was a brief emergency whence I couldn't remember one of my user ID's. Gadzooks! Why is it always the simple ones we forget.
The room took on the hum of commiseration, common before exams.
The hand of the clock jerked ahead.
Almost time...almost time...
And then, there in the doorway, the voice of doom.
We had all been told the wrong room.
The entire class, settled and poised for action must move across the campus to a distant building and an unknown room.
And quickly.
Mid-terms are a limited time offer.
As students leapt up and headed as one for the door I began to sign out.
Click, click, click click, click, argggghhhhh, click, click, click.
So much for psychological advantage.
Back into my bag went my text books and pencils.
I scooped up my purse and my jacket and my bag.
I galloped out the door with the rest of the harried horde.
As we panted down corridors and  galloped down sidewalks and growing sense of calm enveloped me.
"We're getting some oxygen to our brains," I gasped to the girl, fleeing beside me.
"We'll likely all do better on the test for this."
And I think we did.

i sat

I sat and watched the changing sky this morning.
Watched a circle of blue, wreathed by cloud.
And then in moments, it seemed,
the cloud realigned in rows, dark against light,
light against dark,
and the sky beyond was burnished silver bright.

Monday, October 20, 2014

truly home

"I'm going to go home," my mother states firmly, her face filled with emotion.
"I'm sure my mother is missing me," she adds, and then, to help me understand, she adds, "She lives three miles out of town you know."
My grandmother lived most of her adult life 'out of town' and her move to Clearwater in her 80's, into an apartment in a seniors complex was truly life altering. I'm sure there were many things about her log home surrounded by woods that she missed, but she never spoke with regret about her move. Instead, she seemed to embrace the change. Now there were next door neighbors and friends and outings and socials and visiting galore. She continued with good humor to keep her own small space, did her own cooking, took long walks daily........Her life was full of all of the things that give daily life meaning. All of the simple things, of friendship and hobby and faith and family, and in just the right amounts of each to suit the unique woman she was.
She has been gone now for more than twenty years.
It seems much longer somehow.
My mother's childhood home has been gone even longer.
My mother doesn't realize that to go home, she would need to be a time traveler.
She would need to 'break the bonds' that hold us to this time and place.
In this time and place she is an old woman.
But in that place, she is truly home.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

sink or swim

Oh, for a moment last night, I thought I heard the rustle of wings, as my hopes and dreams fluttered out the window.
Too melodramatic?
Well, my baby granddaughter doesn't call me Drama for nothing.
I don't have time to wallow though.
The next wave is already rolling in and I have to concentrate to keep my footing.
It's sink or swim.

Monday, October 13, 2014

plainly preferred

A positively peachy, plainly preferred pile of perfectly plump pancakes placed by papa on a pleasantly pretty plate.