High Tide

                    Rough Atlantic surf near St. Augustine, Florida

 

The wind is up and the surf is rough

I need its roar to quiet my mind

quell my sinking thoughts

(It’s a daily occurrence)

I am seeking peace and clarity

and finding it to be a rarity

Can you hear them again?

The thundering hooves of despots and the pandering peacocks

with  painted smiles

promising

protection

A return to greatness and glory

Making the nation “theirs” again

They’ve created a turbulent uncertainty

and a typhoon of terror

They fracture freedoms of the disenfranchised

Revoke rights and restrict access

Rape Mother Earth in the dead of night

This is not my beloved country

I am not in the land of the free

But there’s still time to be brave

I am swimming with the riptide

Rowing with one oar

( I’ve been here before)

  and racing into the headwinds

in search of a safer shore

Day 18: Part of an undated entry in my writer’s notebook, rediscovered.

Looking Out My Front Door

Image result for storm clouds and palm trees in art

Image courtesy of: https://www.wallpaperup.com/41454/art_paintings_ocean_sea_seascape_storm_waves_spray_drops_moon_clouds.html

 

Tonight I watch gulls

dancing across a steel gray sky

and wonder if they are warning us.

The clouds are rolling north,

the edges like sea foam swirling on an angry tide.

Sea birds are swooping,

diving deeper into the surf,

 becoming milky specks with upturned wings

Their music sounds an alarm

like a tuneless and high pitched gong.

From the left corner of the atmosphere,

thick hot air blows the palm trees up

like the inside of a skirt.

Darkness shrouds the house in an ominous slant.

  I sit while the gulls sing

and wait for the rain to tiptoe in.

 

Day 10: This was spontaneously drafted on Monday the 8th as I watched a weather front move in. Humid days and nights are slowly announcing themselves. The sky looked like the sea, thus the reason for the image.

Mountains on My Mind

I dream of a woodland retreat.

A mountainous oasis.

Walking in the forest

Bathing in nature

as the green canopy of hardwood trees

sways and sings.

My boots help me find my way.

I pause and listen to a rushing stream.

As I  leap onto slippery and misshapen rocks,

I pray for balance.

I lean toward the outstretched hand of my son,

who seems to have danced on the water.

His fording is eased by the length of his body.

I long to be more limber and less awkward.

  My backpack hugs my body

I feel oddly at ease with its great weight.

 As I take deep, deep breaths,

I feel the tension slough off my body.

Can mountain air comfort you like a warm blanket?

The long granite beds replace the scrambled boulders.

Another summit

Another Celebration

We rest upon them and gaze into Infinity

At one with the Divine

 

Day 6: In 12 days I head north.  My spirit yearns for cooler altitudes and time with my tribe. The photo is from a hike to Camel’s Hump in Vermont that Emily and I completed. I have yet to write about that day!  One of the most mentally challenging in my life…

Morning Deluge

Image result for morning rain

            Image Courtesy of: https://fineartamerica.com/featured/early-morning-                rain-sallie-wysocki.html

 

Held hostage by the gravity of sleep,

the ceiling fan spins its hum.

The alarm has been snoozed

My mind fogged is fogged by dreams

It starts as a tapping

and moves quickly into a steady beat.

I kneel at the window,

my eyes unfocused,

peering into the early morning darkness.

I only see trees swaying

Awake now, I stumble down  the hall

and in mere seconds

the sky has released a deluge.

The park is filling with an amber rain

Black puddles shine in my back yard

Overhead, thunder rolls and rumbles

Its vibrations felt by my feet

I pray for its passing

and the easing of the rain.

I long to run before my work day begins

The trail will be flanked by vernal pools

hundreds of frogs

-immaculately conceived-

will engage in their chorus.

In these few moments

A reincarnation of Old Florida reveals itself

Beckoning and Begging and Beseeching

to be Saved before it sinks.

 

Day 5:  Fine tuning this before the end of  a work day.  Written in the early hours.  Published now.

Safe Places

 

Is home just a place to live?  Is it just a place where we feel most safe?  Is it a place that makes us feel most strong? Is it a feeling, a desire, to be our authentic self? My ultimate desire, my safest place-my querencia- is to be at or near the mountains. Walking in the woods. Pausing to listen to a rushing stream. Jumping rocks to cross to the other side. My backpack hugging my body. My boots helping me find my way. Time is suspended here. Distractions are few. Troubles fade. Hopes soar and the Divine presents itself.

Last summer, I completed my first solo day hike. I had not told anyone of my plans ahead of time. I told my sons the morning I was leaving. I knew the men in my life would try to discourage me, not because of my lack of ability but because of safety.  But jerks exist off the trail and the mountain was one I knew well, having climbed it twice before.

The hike is easy enough, with some hopping over stream beds and slight switchbacks. It doesn’t take long for the sounds of the parkway that cuts through the notch to dissipate. I remember the heaviness of the summer air that day. It didn’t take me long to work up a sweat. My legs easily climbed up and over tree roots. I stopped to pause now and then to take in the green canopy of hardwood trees. I took deep, deep breaths, grateful that the air I was taking in filled me with peace. Can mountain air comfort you like a warm blanket?

The higher I climbed, the more I felt the tension slough off my body. Each step made me feel lighter. I felt nothing but joy as I moved closer to the summit. With this mountain, you know you are getting closer. The sky comes into view above and the long granite slabs replace the dark dirt and fallen leaves on the trail.  Suddenly-it seemed- I reached the top. A long granite bed greeted me with views of four mountains in three directions. The ledges have steep dropoffs.  I gaze into infinity when I look below.

I am alone at the summit but not lonely. I am filled with wonder and awe as I am reminded of the love I have for these mountains. I leave the summit with a renewed strength and the affirmation that this is home.

Dancing With the Butterflies

                                      The butterfly garden: A work in progress

I watch in delight as the garden grows and blossoms

Colors of crimson, ochre, amethyst, and tangerine

rest in harmony with one another

Butterflies flutter and swoop

enjoying the variety of sweet nectar selections

 New plantings arrived to commemorate Earth Day

Mona Lavender and Verbena adding hearty and wispy tones to the corner’s growing vibrancy

  A milkweed, on its last legs, became a temporary home for a caterpillar whose demise was met swiftly by the cunning and patience of an unknown predator

My indigo delphinium gave up the ghost just yesterday

But the spaces quickly filled with a robust Penta  and mild-mannered Lantana

  I tend to it daily and fret over it like a mother of an infant

 This tiny space provides a respite from the rest of the world

A place of simple peace where my mother’s spirit reigns 

Day 30. The last. The days are growing hot quickly down here.  Besides running, the garden provides a reason to step outside. I’ll visit it at sunrise tomorrow.

Unecessary Intrusions

 

Image result for unnecessary intrusions in art

Image courtesy of: Deviant Art

Driving in the noir morning

On its way to daybreak

The boulevard overly lit with electronic signs

of car dealerships, fast food, pharmaceutical franchises

and strips clubs advertising

“Girls Girls  Girls!”

“Selectively Hiring Hot Chicks”

  Arriving at the appointed hour,

the office astounds me

with the sounds of “headline news”

blaring on a ubiquitous screen

feeding me shallow repetitive drama

delivered in flamboyant fashion

I step outside in desperation

to avoid the endless droning

The whoosh of commuter traffic is ironically soothing

I notice the morning is awake

Its cool breeze sloughing off the clinging sputter

that spews from the so called news

I seat myself on a nearby bench

and observe a trio of birds constructing a spindly nest

Their collection of building materials lies on the pavement

I watch and wait as the glare and blare slowly disappear

Day 24. An early morning medical appointment inspired this one!