At six this morning, I awoke to dark skies; and later, while outside hanging laundry, a flock of southbound geese skimmed the neighborhood treetops. Change is coming, velvety green grass and skies plum full of drowsy clouds – gunmetal, granite, pearl, with their slow drips, drops, and drizzles. Rain. I love rain, the gleam of light on wet pavement, the gumbo of saturated earth, the sweet tang of sodden leaves. Fall. Winter. Spring. But the all-day dark that chills and creeps under my spirit cloak to weigh me d-o-w-n, that is harder to bear. So I grasp summer with both hands, and we shimmy and spin, skirts fluttering in the golden slant of sun beams. There is raucous laughter, much singing, and the hush of reverence all at once, everything at once: light, whispering wind, parched grass, and lovers holding hands. The last of the blooming flowers, a girl on a scooter, a boy screaming, and me, watching. I am alive. Leaves are falling into fall, summer’s fingertips slipping through mine.
So one last hike before another, I hope: Wahkeena Falls with Bert and Lori (Hi friends!). That’s the biggest slug I’ve ever seen. Then there were the ladies I regret not asking for a picture. A pair of old friends and cute and fit as can be, aged eighty-nine and ninety-two, hiking the trail. I hope that when I am old, I will be as sweet and generous and bright-eyed and have a friend who will hike with me to the falls. Oh! and that fourth picture down, of water with a white stripe? A giant salmon swimming upstream! There were many! The wonder of creation and I witnessed it with my own eyes.
Oh my goodness, how life is good, great, excellent – every single day!
