Daily Archives: May 3, 2014

Art and Culture, Travel

The Monthly

Leave a comment

Beltane                                                                    Emergence Moon

A sickle Emergence Moon has risen in the west, just behind a tall poplar. Above it is Jupiter. A month plus a little ago, March 27th, I was on the road out of Holbrook, Arizona at 4 am. The mesa country was cold and the night was deep. Up in the sky hung a crescent of the Hare Moon and in its cusp was Venus.

(Spring Scattering Stars, Edwin Blashfield,1927)

Crescent moons are among the signal aesthetic gifts of the universe, especially when combined with a bright planet, especially Venus or Jupiter. The heart that cannot be moved by a black sky, a silver sliver of moon and cradled within its arms a fellow traveler, is a heart that has lost its wonder. I recall thinking as I drove on I-40 that morning last March that much of the beauty of southwest Native art came from clear views just like the one I was seeing.

It’s not hard to imagine those early ancestors of ours, on their trek out of Africa, looking up in wonder at the very same sight.

Colorado, Family, Feelings, Third Phase

A Gentle Tsunami

1 Comment

Beltane                                                                      Emergence

I’ve put myself into a shocked, off center state by our decision to move. Assimilating the idea and its consequences have left me lackadaisical about Latin, less interested in the garden, a schlump relative to writing except for this blog. This won’t last long. It’s a response to the gentle but powerful emotional tsunami washing up on my Minnesota shore, a flood that I realize will wash most of what has been my life here back out to sea. And, it’s premonitory, a reality in the distance, yet it has enough force to rock me.

I’m letting it, right now, take me out of the now and buffet me with imagined sequelae, some wonderful, some sad, some exhilarating, some anxiety producing.

Wonderful. Living near the grandkids, the Rockies, the West. More faces at holidays and birthdays. A new place to absorb, to see, to learn, to become part of.

Sad. Saying good-bye to the Woollies, this house and its gardens, the Walker, the MIA, the Guthrie, the memories of 40 years.

Exhilarating. Writing in a new natural environment, one that will give me years of stimulation as will the lived history of the region. Staghounds in our future, dogs of the West.  A new home and land.

Anxiety producing. You know. Packing, unpacking. Money. Adapting to a new place. Finding medical care, insurance.

All this swirls around, causing emotional collisions that spark off each other, create radiants of feeling. It’s the early days of a love affair, one that will go the distance. God, how great, how frightening, is that?