centre of the universe - the dreaming

In the evenings, the sun lit up the hills. Golden fire facing east, and the water smooth as glass. You can dive off the end of this dock (as long as you do a surface dive, you're good); in the mornings, the sun sparkles off the water - it is a lake full of diamonds. Very distracting for someone so distracted by shiny things...

Water lapping lazily at the shore and the whisper of wind through rattling poplar leaves - what better to lull you to sleep, to send you precious dreams and unexpected visions? And in the morning, the welcoming scent of fresh coffee. Family, laughter, comfort, new folks, old folks, plenty of steak and lobster (cousin Ess knows "a bunch of Newfies" who send him fresh (still living) lobster and crab every year. Cousin Ay made a thirty-gallon tank that fits on the BBQ pit. Lots of lobster), golf, swimming, canoes, boats, tube rides, and, best of all, tossing both kids in the lake and swimming out after their giggles surface.


In the evenings, the sun lit up the hills. Smoke and fire facing East. The sun has dipped just below the rolling hills. At any moment, you kind of expect the roar of an uncontrollable grass fire to race through, in the wake of herds of deer, rabbits, skunks, and little bluebirds. In particular, a skunk called Flower, with buddies Thumper and Bambi.

MMmmmm. Roast venison.

We had that!!

But srsly. This sky was pretty amazing.

I didn't really want to leave, to be honest. But I have this interview, see, with this guy what wrote some books I really like. So I had to come home. And this was my view as I drove home along the muddy, noisy gravel road.

*sigh* I've missed you, Valley. But why could you not come with a lake that also includes my cousins, aunts, and uncles?

Bye, lake. See you soon.

Labels: Home, lake, skies, vacation

It is a mixture of relief, as welcoming an old friend, and a melancholy longing.

This is my home
where I grew up
I remember each corner, each nook and cranny
The roads leading to my front door
Sounds and smells of spring at home.
Telling my children,
"this, this is the bedroom I slept in;
this is where I played.
This yard, here, where my father tossed two pounds of peanuts
on two huge tarps
for my birthday.
Do you see that playground?
That was my playground.
They've taken the swings.
I don't know where the swings are.
Where have they taken my swings?
Oh, and this, do you see this?
I carved my name in this wooden beam when I was ten.
I wonder where they've taken my swings."

I am home.

Labels: Home