Today I remembered when you wlere six, the first time we crested the hill that rolled Kachemak Bay into breath-taking forms, water & sky & blue glaciers, tall sandy bluffs.
We combed the beach for driftwood, kayaked in quiet coves told stories ’round a ring of fire. Our house was empty for a while when you boys left (years ago) to investigate the wider world, try on new ways of being, craft lives you could call your own.
California, Europe, Oregon, Montana…you explored this shiny penny called world, and then one day, with your hearts full and satisfied, you came back. To raw memories. To strange hours of daylight. To worn river rock and tall green trees.
Today long trails of grey clouds create their own rhythm & light singing a pure song, a remembered song of pricking ocean smells, damp sand, faithful old friends and vibrant new loves.
All the while, we excavate dreams on a bar napkin, sketch out rooms and plans, where to build for the best Bay view, how groundwater burrows and drains. Your dreams entwine with ours (yes, we still have them at age 62) and though the day is grey we synch our senses, approach a renewed state of mind, toast our precious connections and raise our cups to the sky, catching rain.
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Oh, Monica, this is stunning. Thank you for launching my day in such a glorious way. I'm craving my kids this a.m.
Hello old friend! What a joy to watch the next generation dreamin' and schemin', huh?
The world is their oyster, as it was ours.
They too will settle down and, i their turn, watch the next generation.
In a way it’s good that everything changes yet remains the same for all eternity.
Oh, I so appreciate your meaty replies Friko…so much expressed in 3 short sentences. Thank you.
It's such a refreshment to see happy and healthy young ones. There are perfectly fine 20 and 30-somethings all around, I suppose, but it's sometimes hard to see them in the cities. Here, there's a hard edge, always some anxiety, the sense of climbing with no goal.
But to be grounded – in the most literal sense – in such a wonderful world… No wonder they look so happy!
An attachment to the land starts early, and for me, started in the suburbs of Detroit where I camped out in our backyard, and built boats out of sticks to swirl 'round in sewer drains! The land sure holds power. Thank you, Linda.
"Our precious connections…" Very thoughtful words and images – as another one of ours prepares to move far away you have reminded me that there will be future meetings and joyful family times. Your children look so happy!
Yes and of course, there's always Skype. What a great time to be alive; so many ways to access those we love.