Rising Sun

Once in a blue moon.
Or - a rising orange sun?

Sure - there is science to explain it.
Atmospheric smoke from wildfires burning somewhere up in that wide expanse called Canada.

Canada.
They speak of this place as if it has no heart…as if me myself am not connected.

Blue moons. Orange suns.
What are the odds? What are the options?

Five years.
With awe….and deepest respect.
I bow to that sun….to science….to all of the universe’s improbable permutations.

And - I hold tight. Just for a moment.
To a woman who loved this color…and lived this life.
She was. She is. She will always be.
My mom.

For Mary Oliver

“Tell me, what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
-Mary Oliver

Tops of Mountains

Every summer - these mountain skies fill themselves with magic.
This - they say - is the 32nd year.

I was right here - then
As I am - now.
Just as eager and excited.
To capture and record it all....to preserve the moment.

How is it possible that I'm this old that I think back so far and remember?
How is it possible that every year I see it - as if it's the first time ever?
How is it possible that - still - it takes my breath away?

Imagine floating silently over the tops of mountains.
Up where the air is quiet and clear.
Imagine.