Morning came on. A symphony.
Nothing, then notions, the faintest hint of sound,
and before we realized it,
a song forte
played for all who were awake to hear and see.
Morning came on. A symphony.
Nothing, then notions, the faintest hint of sound,
and before we realized it,
a song forte
played for all who were awake to hear and see.
The sharpness that comes with a soft sunrise.
Another day of decision, perspective, consequence.
Who Fears Death?
What, when we breath our last?
What becomes of the processes, the structure, the feelings, the thoughts, in the end?
Did our actions matter? How we held ourselves? Who we loved? What we created?
Thoughts on the uncertainties of being human.
In October we took a trip to commemorate our 10 year anniversary, which was in April, which is finally being blogged in January. Confused yet? The jist is, after 3 years of regular life, we finally took a vacation.
Bryan and I have been married 10 years, together 12. It was and is a great reason to go somewhere different, which turned out to be only 30 miles away (if you were a bird)- Orcas Island. Itβs a land mass weβve seen across the bay for the last 3 years, but never ventured to. Tons of photos in this post; be ye warned :-)
We had a marvelous time, doing a whole lot of nothing. We cooked meals, played checkers, beach combed, watched movies, and read books. So, I suppose we didnβt do βnothing.β But given our schedule for the last three years, it felt that way. It was magnificent.
Iβm thankful for my time with my husband. Iβm fortunate to have married my (still) best friend, and while no relationship is without its strife, I wouldnβt change it. A life with someone who stays, helps the healing from lifeβs inevitable wounds, knows how to laugh, and isnβt afraid to talk politics, existentialism, or simulation theory before 7am (even when I am), is a treasure.
Coming Home
By Mary Oliver
When we are driving in the dark,
on the long road to Provincetown,
when we are weary,
when the buildings and the scrub pines lose their familiar look,
I imagine us rising from the speeding car.
I imagine us seeing everything from another placeβ
the top of one of the pale dunes, or the deep and nameless
fields of the sea.
And what we see is a world that cannot cherish us,
but which we cherish.
And what we see is our life moving like that
along the dark edges of everything,
headlights sweeping the blackness,
believing in a thousand fragile and unprovable things.
Looking out for sorrow,
slowing down for happiness,
making all the right turns
right down to the thumping barriers to the sea,
the swirling waves,
the narrow streets, the houses,
the past, the future,
the doorway that belongs
to you and me.
Gripping this little daredevil for dear life. >>>>>>>>>
Colorful September.
A myriad of tones in leaves and skies.
An end to Summer. The gateway to Fall.
One of my favorite months.