a day to remember, and to forget a little

Crazy birds sang so loudly in a tree on a streetcorner that I forgot everything else. A ragtime tune suddenly took me back to a long-forgotten TV show that I watched as a kid. The sun made the melting snow look like an inviting duvet. And I remembered that I knew a few words in Polish.

the greenfinch and the unexpected memories

Today I remembered how my father taught me to say totta kai when I was very young. And how on an early spring day once I spent hours on the porch, with binoculars and a bird book, until I had identified the greenfinch that sang so loudly from a pine tree.

Strange how memories suddenly fall on me without warning. I'm not sure what to do with them, sometimes.

jubilee for a warrior queen

This year is supposed to be good. Wine, road trips and roses, strawberries with cream and sun, friends and dogs and feeling loved.

I sink into my sofa to read books, to tired to take on the world. I pick out a journal in soft leather to document my year of jubilee. I read the Book of Job:

Put your ear to the earth - learn  the basics. 

Listen - the fish in the ocean will tell you their stories.

 

I'm missing a part of me and I walk alone like a warrior queen, magnificent and sad, with a diamond core.