January 27, 2016. Yesterday morning, driving along a familiar freeway, attentive to motions of other vehicles, exit signs, all the usual stimuli – suddenly James McMurtry’s voice singing “I only want to talk to you” leapt out of memory and song context to put me in Mother’s kitchen, desperate to talk to her. She’s been gone since this month, 1990. Her kitchen is not an option.
I went instead to my journal. Among other insights, this poem emerged.
The image is from the dining area at Red Corral Ranch, a retreat center I visit several times a year, near Wimberley, Texas. The shadows were moving as the breeze stirred the curtains. Not unlike thoughts changing partners for the next round in a square dance.
January 20, 2016. Aging presents itself whether courted or not, a presence to be accepted. Each year it seems doctors take a greater pinch out of the budget and out of my patience. I understand I have a choice in my response, but sometimes I slip into anger at a bill for a test I never wanted to need and never dreamed would cost that much! The morning after anger, I reconnect to my models of serenity on the brink – stragglers on the oak at Gary’s rental property in New Braunfels (his parents’ home before they quit hanging on). Today I choose to flutter in peace with what is, thus with what no longer is.
January 6, 2016. Central Texas has yet to have a hard freeze this winter (in spite of ice and snow in other parts of the state a week ago!) Today I was observing the Chiapas sage, a Fall bloomer that just keeps blooming and blooming until a freeze sends it into dormancy. I’m not sure what a shorter dormant period may mean for next year’s blooms, but I am comforted by the cheery yellow profusion that brightens this grey day. And I think: How wise – I, too, should give my all right now rather than fret about what lies ahead. So, here’s the poem that followed.
The image is a composite – sage photographed today, birds from prior photos. (No way to coerce dove and blue-jay to resume positions and hold a pose while I steadied the camera!)
Happy New Year,