Summer and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: Ruth and Gabe. Nathan. Tarot. Morning Darkness. Cool morning. Shadow the mover of toys and socks. The sleeper. Alan and Joanne. Dandelion. RTD. Japanese lanterns. Red tie guy. His allies and facilitators. The rest of us. The most. Our long, slow slide into a third-rate country.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Japanese Lanterns for Artemis

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ahavah. Love.

Tarot: The eight of Vessels-rebirth. How can I enhance my joy in the Tarot.

One brief shining: Ruth drives her pale green Subaru up the hill to Conifer, to Shadow Mountain Black Mountain Drive and she brings Gabe, Jon, Kate, Merton, Rebecca, BJ, Sarah, Annie with her, the living and the dead who occupy our memories and still shape our lives. Family.

Family: Its many branches planted here and in the here after. Jon and Kate. Tanya. Leisa. Rebecca and Merton. Of recent and sometimes blessed memory.

Not gone. Not at all. Haunting or supporting. Often both in the same moment. A remembered moment of hearts spread out on a restaurant table. A father watching movies with his son. A hostile mother demeaning her children. A hand held gently. A smile and a hug just when needed. Those quiet, small moments when love flashed between the two. Or among the three.

Mothers and fathers. Daughters and sons. Brothers and sisters. Grandfathers and grandmothers. Cousins. Kin.

Mark works in the desert of the Arabian Peninsula. Mary starting a new expat life as a permanent resident of Australia. Melbourne. Guru in K.L. My son in Osan along with Seoah and Murdoch.

Mom and dad. Long dead now. Yet not absent. No. Following Faulkner: “The past is not ever dead; it’s not even past.”

The stories. Of Charlie Keaton. Of Mabel. Of Aunt Mary and Aunt Mame. Aunt Nell. Uncle Riley. Aunt Virginia. All ghosts now, all hidden from earthly view yet still alive, still shaping us in ways we sometimes know and in ways we often do not.

How will we dance in the minds of our family after our deaths? Will it be a slow, graceful gavotte. A passion fueled tango. An elegant waltz. Perhaps a rock and roll moment, abandon and energy. Something we cannot predict, nor ever know.

Artemis: Nathan brought by two Japanese lanterns yesterday. Adding to the koi already on the door and his wooden accessories. Artemis has a distinct Asian inflection, appropriate for this guy whose family long ago fled west across the Pacific to Korea, Malaysia, Thailand, Singapore, Australia.

Artemis is, in that way, a family shrine as well as a temple to my mixed pagan and Jewish spirituality. Her Tomatoes have many spiky yellow blooms, her Squash Plants have begun to throw vines over the raised beds, while the seeds of her fall salad garden right now take in moisture and heat, have located Great Sol’s path above them and will soon emerge above ground.

Still to plant: Herbs, flowers. And, later, in October, garlic.