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.

Fifty-Nine

Shades of endless grey.
November.
Stick season.
 Full of all things possible. 
Void of any thing at all.

It changed so quickly. 
Like all things. 
One minute it's this. The next - it's not.
Where is the color? Where is the life?

I think about what it means to honor this day.
Is it just one day older than yesterday?
Or - is it one whole year?
How do I measure and weigh?
How do I mark time?

I love the vulnerability of the leafless trees.
I love the uncertainty of the evolving skies.
I love the wisdom of the geese as they fly.

I like to imagine I embody it all.
It's a good day. Isn't it?
The page turns.
Fifty-Nine.
 

Her Shoes Wait

On this third day of this new year.

It's quietly...softly...gently snowing. The world is silent and winter white. Just as it was - on this same weekend - last.

On this first weekend of 2015 - I cleaned and cleared and made new space. Here. In this house and studio that was my mother's.
It happened a lifetime ago.
And - it continues today.

How is my heart?

This first weekend of 2016 - finds me here. In that same house and studio space.
It is now mine. And - it's still my mother's. I love connecting and believing in that.

We carry on. I do.

Again - the light reflects inwards. I pause. It allows me the space to re-collect...to re-minisce...to re-member.

How is it possible to quantify a year? To balance? To calculate? To calibrate? To make sense of it all?

Funny how some moments remain so clear...whereas so many others are a blurr.

I now want to say: 'I know'. 'I have the answers.'  'I've got this'. 'I understand'. 'I am strong.'
I want to look to the questions for comfort....instead of allowing those questions to confound.

I had one Aussie pup. Now I have two..
They are lying - still - beneath my feet. I can feel and hear them breathing. Steady and slow. They offer so much.

I thought I was good....and healed...and forward moving. 
In peace.
I do believe. I am.

And then - there were her old tired shoes sitting empty. Looking out at the snow falling. Wistfully waiting.
For someone to return and fill them....and take them out for a walk.

How is my heart?

It's whole. It's beating. It's growing. It's been one entire year this weekend.
That - here -  I began.

* * *

A part of one of the many projects I hope to see to completion in this new year:
'The Things She Didn't See'