A Crack in the Sidewalk

A crack in the sidewalk, 

jagged and out of place 

and I asked myself why 

it wasn’t neat and orderly. 

The answer rose beside 

the question: because the 

earth moves. But it doesn’t 

stop me from stepping over it 

or for children to draw with 

chalk for a game of hopscotch

A crack in the sidewalk, jagged 

and in the place it was given.

“Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.”

~ Dr. Seuss

Afternoon Moon

Look up! 

When I walk 

I stop to look to the sky

blue and decorated 

with the lace of trees. 

More intriguing is

a cloud white moon 

riding high in the afternoon

shaded with dark moon craters

~ I greet this celestial body 

with a smile, a nod and a click of my camera

and if shining silver when I turn out my light, 

I’ll say ‘goodnight moon’. 

with no science to prove 

the steady, insistent pull 

of the moon on earth 

but I have felt and 

seen those tides.

“It is a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the moon.”

~ Galileo Galilei, astronomer

(1564 - 1642)

Book Review: Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens

Kya wasn’t always alone in the marsh. She hadn’t always been called the Marsh Girl. There had been family times, her mother painting, cooking and laughing, her brothers and sisters playing in the surf. One by one they all left her except her father, an abusive man who suffered from war wounds. He drank too much and became violent but did have unpredictable spells of sobriety. Kya started to be completely alone when he disappeared for weeks on end. A little girl, she scrounged in the marsh, dug mussels on the beach and barely survived. But she did. 

The first person to leave was her mother. Kya was only six years old. It wasn’t until this child was an adult did she understand. One brother, Jodie, stood by her the longest, teaching her the ways of the marsh and about the birds. On one of his rare times of sobriety, her father taught her more about the marsh. He was even kind, almost good to her. When she was ten years old, he too disappeared. She kept away from town, afraid of people, hiding in the ferns and trees when the truant officer came for her. Desperate for food, she dug mussels and took them to the only man she knew and trusted. Jumpin’ always took whatever she brought, gave her money. He and his wife Mabel cared for her from a distance, knowing that she was as shy as a deer in the marsh. 

Kya, at that young age, was curious about Tate, a boy from the town who often fished in the marsh. Their first communication was by bird feathers and tokens. He left her a note one time, but being unable to read, she did speak to him. Tate taught her to read. A relationship began to blossom, until he went to college. He did come to see her as often as possible but slowly he left her too. Growing into womanhood, another boy she had seen since a girl came into her life. But Chase Andrews merely wanted to be ‘the first’. Leading a double life, in town a hero; in the marsh with Kya, a pseudo-gentle lover. 

When the book opens, his lifeless body is found at the base of an old fire tower by two boys who recognized him. Speeding to the sheriff, a murder investigation was opened, followed by a trial. The sheriff became suspicious when there were no footprints, no fingerprints and one bit of red fluff on the victims jacket. The remainder of the story is a trial in a town already prejudiced against ‘the Marsh Girl’. No spoiler alert! There are plenty of suspects and few pieces of real evidence. Only one person ever knew the outcome.

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens brought to mind, the tone and depth of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. This novel will be a book that I will reread. Probably more than once. I have yet to see the movie, but I will be seeking it out! 

“Kya laid her hand upon the breathing, wet earth, 

and the marsh became her mother.”

~ Where the Crawdads Sing

Title: Where the Crawdads Sing

Author: Delia Owens

Copyright: 2018

Publisher: G.P.Putnam’s Sons

Type: Novel

Format: Paperback

ISBN-Paperback - 9780735219106m

ISBN-Hardback - 9780735219090

LCCN:2018010775

Foot Work

Little more than bumps 

in the roads we travel

are life’s challenges ~

Some bigger, 

   some smaller

     and some just in-between.

Taking any bump 

too fast can damage

this mortal vehicle 

that carries us on earth ~

Slow quickly

  Slow thoughtfully

    Slow into the music.

“Moving fast is not the same as going somewhere.”

~ Robert Anthony

A Rose for Aunt Mabel

There are many sad days, but none sadder than when one very cherished life passes from this earth. Today the passing of Aunt Mabel Jones at age 93 is that cloud over the sun. Sad for her family, her friends and the many, many lives that she touched with her smile and her warmth. Looking through old photo albums for a picture of her was unsuccessful. But it will not be necessary. I remember her with great and deep fondness. So the rose is Aunt Mabel ~ sweet and beautiful. 

“An aunt is a safe haven for a child. Someone who will 

keep your secrets and is always on your side.”

~ Sara Sheridan

Stamina - GROWTH - Theme for September 2018

Gearing up

Rhythms and dance

Orbiting the earth

Weathering the storm

Treading the boards

Harbouring few doubts

“My turn shall also come:

I sense the spreading of a wing.”

~ Osip Mandelstam, The Selected Poems

Drift

Low tide - White Rock, B.C.

The smoke filled air

shadows Earth’s dome of blue

roaming on uncertain currents.

“I think there will be more smiles when the smoke clears.”

~ Shaun Alexander

Newness ~ 1

There is always a stirring when spring is just around the corner. Here in Victoria, snowdrops blooming and daffodils in bud remind me, just in case I may have forgotten. On the prairies, spring always felt much farther away with winter winds and snow, reminding me to just be patient. 

That stirring to plant, to get my fingernails deep in the dirt, to get out in the garden or fields is not a new feeling.  Wherever I have lived, once adjusted to the climate, I have felt it's depth, the longing to be part of the earth. For many of us, living on our own, in a suite, in the middle of a city, where patios and window sills are our only gardens, it can take a good bit of creativity to respond to the coming of spring. 

I’ve accepted a challenge to avoid buying anything new for this year. Of course, this must be tempered by good judgement. Spring time does put a bit of extra pressure on this ‘avoiding newness’ challenge. But for the sake of beauty and soul satisfaction, I was willing to use some good judgement. After all flower pots and patio containers need new seed, new plants and some, a bit of new soil. Starting with these little violas for my window sill, I have bought and brought some lovely newness into my home. 

The deer had a lovely munch on the bush outside the window!

Awakening to the newness of each day opens onto many possibilities. Granted, we don’t always jump out of bed with enthusiasm. As our eyes open, our feet feel each step, we are slowly able to reshape the morning to fit our our desires. For today, my stirring to plant was satisfied by these little violas for my window sill.

“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.”

~ George Bernard Shaw

Fixing a Flat

Leverage is always useful

for lifting heavy weights ~

cars with flat tires come to mind.

But what of the mind

with no more air to breathe

motivation melancholic

  inspiration indifferent

    energy ebbed away.

What lever can lift these weights ~

threats that stall forward movement,

creating a lump of flesh that has become

a questionable use of space on this earth.

Sound too melodramatic?

     too histrionic?

        too emotional?

Absolutely - unless in the midst of the mud.

The human mind is a trickster

full of mischievous and dangerous deceit

yet with 

novel nuggets of knowledge

  basic bits of belief 

      intuitive iotas of insight

their leverage slips into muddied thoughts 

scrabbles beneath melancholy, indifference and energy ~

the simplicity of each tiny next step 

breathes puffs of air into the mind’s flat tire.

“It’s not necessary to do extraordinary things to get extraordinary results.

~ Warren Buffet

Winter Solstice

The earth tilts from the sun

Days have fallen ever short 

Gardens rest quietly

Roots nestle in cold creativity 

Gentle regrowth of light begins 

“Spring, summer, and fall fill us with hope; 

winter alone reminds us of the human condition.” 

~ Mignon McLaughlin

On the Promenade

Back lit by nature’s warmth,

gently shading the earth below ~

a textured ceiling lends

leafy perspective 

to a late summer afternoon wandering.

“The light teaches you to convert life 

into a festive promenade.”

~ Dejan Stojanovic, 

The Sun Watches the Sun

Wonderment ~ 1

I wonder

about the stars in the sky

the turn of the earth

the steady rise of the sun

the seasons of the moon

the shift in the seasons

like a best kept secret on the calendar

felt by the birds of the sky

the trees and deer of the land

a barely felt sense that something has 

shifted sideways, 

   changed downwards, 

        drifted away

only to swing back like a pendulum

   rising up again in the spring

       returning with the sun

I wonder

about how our insides respond to

the pull of the stars and moon and wind

all that revolves within us 

the energies that ebb and flow

from morning til night

through all of our experiences

perspective about our next steps

lost in a barely felt sense that something has

shifted sideways, 

   dipped downwards, 

       drifted away

only to swing back like a pendulum

   rising up again with rest

       returning with new energy for a new day.

“The world is full of magic things, 

patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”

~ W.B.Yeats