Somewhere Along the Way


There is a skylight in my motherís bathroom. While I was showering this morning, I imagined myself alone in an area of rugged volcanic mountains, standing beneath a mythic waterfall alive in the sun, the water clear and warmed by volcanic activity. What better way to heal oneís bones, I thought, after a long and arduous journey?

A few minutes later, shirtless and still moist, I stood near an open bedroom window and listened to the birds as I combed my hair. The house is too warm for me, but there are two windows I can open without my mother noticing right away. The other is directly behind where I am sitting now, and the fresh cool air makes possible a sort of spiritual revival. Another revival will come later this morning, when I step outside for the first time. I am a child about such things.

There is a wild blackberry bush outside the window, and it is just beginning to bloom. It has draped itself upon a large rhododendron, which itself is in full flower ó a pale red with little yellow feelers that attract the bees. Great mounds of ivy hold up the old cedar fence between this house and the neighborís. The ivy has climbed to the top of a short-needled conifer at the far corner of the lot. The tree seems healthy enough, but I know it is being strangled. Who knows ó maybe it enjoys it.

A quiet, lovely day. I am inclined to make something of it, but it is probably more likely to make something of me ó to carve a little deeper, to etch itself upon the brow, to disturb, to remind, to teach, to amaze, to sadden, to deny, to reveal, to bless, to carry me further down the road. I will go willingly.

May 28, 2006













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