Post D-Day

I went to bed at 11 with a heavy heart.  I awoke at 3am feeling sick to my stomach.  Now, at 7:30, I start my day with an ache for my country, and a prayer...these prayers must continue.

Changes & Flowers

A kindred got engaged over the weekend.  The first of us "Romantics" to go, and not something I was in any way prepared for.  I have been processing this since Friday; seeing her today helped make everything seem more real.  Still, somehow seeing a fellow free spirit with a striking rock on her hand is altogether shocking...and so symbolic.  We exchanged several tear-filled looks over brunch that conveyed more than words ever could.  My heart is full for her and her future joy.  Yet, nothing will ever be quite the same way again.  It is the way things go.

On my way to meet her, I stopped to pick up flowers as a small engagement gift.  I wanted something small, graceful, yet vibrant.  I had hoped for a single flower that would summarize everything, but nothing stood out enough on it's own.  I browsed for several minutes alone in the very cold room which the flowers all resided in.  After a time, an older woman joined me and we eyed up the colorful wares in silence.  Then, looking at the iris in my hand, and the buckets of flowers surrounding us, she commented "It doesn't get any better than this, does it?"  I could only agree.  I told her the occasion for the flowers, and she told me that she was an artist...I asked her to help me in my selections.  I had already chosen the iris, and a tapered sprig of pale purple flowers...she said that an orange would perfectly off-set the blues, and we eventually chose a burnt orange rose to join the others.  Our exchange was brief, but it made all the difference.  I think you find people of like-mind in unexpected places, but most especially around flowers.


Everyone is growing up and going away, it seems...the time is NOW to treasure these golden moments of youth and freedom.  Thursday and Friday are All Saints Day and All Souls Day...a bonfire celebration may just have to happen. 

There was no dew on the lawn at midnight...

...As I communed with Nature under a full moon...the last full moon of the summer.  My farewell seemed only fitting on a night such as this: the air balmy and close, the crickets still singing, and the slightest occasional breeze whispering in the trees...all else, solitude.  I let my robe fall from me, and walked a few paces before lying down in the grass.  I defy you to not feel like a goddess, lying naked in the moonlight...white skin bathed in the purest of white light.  Putting on my robe once more, I held up a candle to the moon and bid it and the summer goodnight.

Masquerade

Last night was an ode to summer with a few fellow romantics.  Summer, still held in our hands, but soon, fading fast.  Dozens of candles throughout the yard, bottles of wine drunk from tarnished chalices...a midnight feast in the garden.  The voices of Florence, Loreena, and Lana sung over the course of evening; sometimes we ceased speaking and simply listened to the words. The chorus of crickets filled any silences.  The moon rose, and drew us to patches of its light, where we gazed in wonder.  We danced around a torch in the middle of the lawn, through the trees, down the sloping hill.  Spinning, jumping, twirling..."Let the wild rumpus start" indeed.  Cigars were smoked at 1am, and we conversed and read Edna until 3am.  Our masks led to a strange feeling of safety, of nothing-to-lose openness.  The night passed too quickly, and yet, will not be soon forgotten.  Summer, stay, just a little while yet.
I woke up this morning with a Queen Anne's Lace still in my hair.

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Come into my garden, said the spider to the fly

"And here's to drinks in the dark..." (-Florence)

"July, she will fly...

...and give no warning to her flight..."



-Simon & Garfunkel

Almost crashed my car getting this photo...driving-photography has really got to stop for me, but it's oh-so necessary sometimes...

The death of a vision.

Recovering my scattered thoughts, one day at a time.  Figuring out a Plan B, or, trying not to think at all.  Life continues.

Summertime.

I felt alive tonight.  That is all I ever ask.  Loreena Mckennitt and warm summer air and fireflies and feeling and my heart breaking all over the rain-deprived lawn.  The dry grass prickled against  my back.  I did a rain dance around the mulberry tree.  There was lightening; there was still no rain.
I felt.  I lived.  It is summer.  I can feel no more than I do at this moment.

Mad Men Venture

It is three o'clock in the afternoon as I sip a bloody mary and finally give in to the hype: starting Mad Men: Season 1.  Already I can feel myself falling for it, and given my love for the 1960's, I'm not surprised.  We shall see.

Simplicity

The smell of dusty twine, potting soil, and various other gardening implements flooded my senses upon entering the dimly lit shed.  The newest arrival to my indoor plant collection - a charming little fern - was placed into a favorite clay pot; another plant was transplanted into a better container.  The feeling of the soil in my hands, the sound of a potsherd shattering on the floor of the shed, the feeling of that same floor on my bare feet, still hot from the late afternoon sun: these were all sharp yet muted essences that, added together, made for the best portion of my day.
Organizing, cleaning, and purging: all going on in my bedroom.  Such a feeling.  Tonight I used a pair of chopsticks from China Town, San Francisco to extract dried orchid blossoms from a narrow glass jar.  Not an easy feat.
Currently reading: "The Maytrees"...it took me a while to get in sync with the writing style, but little by little I've been falling in love with it.  A book more about moments and feelings than anything else.  Final review forthcoming.
Goodbye, June..."June, she´ll change her tune/In restless walks she´ll prowl the night" (-Simon & Garfunkel)