Summer nights

Two nights ago I went walking in the woods down by the river*. There was a full moon, bright enough to throw deep shadows, but beneath the trees it was dark enough that I could only just see the faint shapes of the tree trunks ahead where they were outlined against the sky beyond, and I had to make my way along the path mainly by feel and memory. It was dark enough that the fireflies swirling around me looked like spotlights, and lit the foliage around them as they glowed.

I had the great pleasure once of witnessing a grown man's first encounter with lightning bugs, and I hope I never forget his wonder and excitement. I remembered that last night, and wondered what the first European settlers to this area must have thought of them. The whole place felt like a fairyland, with the rich warm air filled with swirling lights, and the river rushing just alongside, in the deep shadow of the woods. There was a lot of the kind of loud silence and peaceful busy stillness you get on summer nights in the South.

While I was there I noticed that a feeling of wellness, of mental health, maybe, had crept up on me when I wasn't looking. (It feels important not to look, or else it might not come at all. Like waiting for Santa, or the Tooth Fairy. I guess my perception of Mental Health is that it's a wild magical beastie that must be believed in softly, and not looked for too hard. You have to prepare for it, you have to put out the cookies and leave the tooth under the pillow, but then you have to just go to bed, and hope for the best.) I had this unexpected and gentle realization that I was ok, and life felt ok, and I wasn't afraid of it, for once. It was a perfect moment, apart from the fact that I had to leave the shelter of the trees and go home.


Last night after my shower I went out onto the deck in my towel to look out into the trees and listen. Most of the fireflies had turned in, but I could hear a few varieties of owl off away to the left, and the wind. One of my favorite things about a clearing in the woods (like the one where we live) is that you can hear and see the wind coming. In the city or in the type of suburb that's devoid of trees it usually just appears, and then stops. In the woods, especially on a high deck in the middle of a clearing, you can hear its approach from far away. The trees begin to rustle in the distance, and the rustling grows louder as the wind approaches. You can watch its exact path as these trees begin to sway, and those others remain still. You can see its height where the taller trees dance, and the lower branches remain at rest. You can watch it pass and make its way off into the night, and see what direction it takes. It always feels like I'm a witness to some great magic.

















*I was there to play Pokemon Go, if you must know. But in my defense, I started playing again so I'd be more likely to take walks like this one. I had forgotten how much I love walking in the dark. The world and my well-meaning husband are always conspiring to make me afraid of the dark and the world outside and of other people. I don't want to be too reckless, but I'd like to take those things back. I am not interested in living in fear.

Yoga

I haven't been to yoga class in ages, and I've missed it. Still, when I went tonight I found myself a irritated by the guided meditation thing that this particular instructor was throwing in. Stillness is harder for me when I haven't been practicing it (and I haven't), but typically I find deliberate introspection uncomfortable even at the best of times. So she had us lie still in shivasana and picture light and clouds and this and that, and I tried but felt like I wasn't doing it right. Like I wasn't getting it.

Then she told us to look inside ourselves, or something. It was the type of instruction that tends to frustrate a literal minded person like myself, but I tried.

I tried, and I suddenly felt something happening. I closed my eyes and saw my tight little nut of a heart softening, swelling, and unfolding out of itself like a time lapse video of a flower bud.

I don't really know what happened there,  what it means, but I'd like some more of or.

Hello, April

It was downright cold this morning, after a chilly weekend that followed a few days of record-breaking heat. This is all my fault. I took my winter coats out of my closet too early.

But the fresh-cut grass smells beautifully sweet this morning, and the combination of smell and cool freshness felt like a morning at Camp, which is always nice. Made me a little homesick, though.


This past weekend I made two avocados worth of gorgeous, chunky guacamole* and bought two bags of sprouted grain chips by "Simply Sprouted: Way Better" snacks. Both were surprisingly delicious, and I have just run out of guacamole. Really a shame.


In other news, I have temporarily ceased recycling (I'm quite ashamed of this) because our back door (which leads to the recycling bins) is entirely blocked by inchworms and webbing. Also the recycling, which needs to be carried through the house to be taken out, is covered in inchworms and webbing. Gotta love April under the trees.




















*I make it wrong, always, but I love it this way: avocado, minced garlic, salt, and apple cider vinegar to taste.

Shift. And I do what I want.

My winter sky is back! The trees have stretched out their arms and intertwined their fingers in sleep, and the stars shine again through the empty spaces. Tonight the cold wind cut through my sweater and chilled my bare knees between the hem of my skirt and the tops of my boots, and I directed a toothy grin toward Orion.

And now, of course, the house feels like it's a hundred degrees, and I'm sitting in the front window (because that's where my computer lives, lately) with no shirt on. Good thing this isn't a highly trafficked street.



I was feeling so emo earlier this week--witness the past couple of entries--and two nights in a row I was rescued by unexpected phone calls from friends. One from a college friend (Katy) I haven't had a good conversation with since, well, probably since before graduation, and another from my we-always-hang-out friend Sara. Katy and I talked for over two hours, which was awesome. And she'll be in town soon! Or in the town where we went to school, which is only an hour away. That's a far sight closer than Salt Lake City, so I'll take it. Anyway it occurred to me that I had started getting emo around the time that I had stopped taking these vitamins that I had started taking. Looks like that may have been the reason, and it turns out that B-complex vitamins really do play a role in emotional health. Who'd have guessed it?


Also: boys.

The party went well.

By the way, I was planning a surprise party for my mother. But she reads this blog sometimes. And it stressed me out to no end--I really do need to keep working on managing stress better--but it went well. Everyone who said anything to me about it (and that seemed like a good number of people) was very complimentary. And they said I looked very festive. There were a lot of compliments on that outfit, but a lot of weird looks and such too. Whatever. My mood had been hellish not too long before and I needed colors and craziness. I don't know if there are any pictures. Sara might have some.

I'm still recovering. I'm not as wrecked as I thought I would be, but I have been really dragging. A woman I work for gave me some really nice vitamins (a week's worth!) this morning though, and I think that the ones I have taken are helping (!), so that's nice.


Tonight: Breaking Dawn with the high school crew. I don't even care what you think.

Notes on medicine, honesty, weather, and unnecessarily profound observations.

Prednisone is not tasty, but I am still worried about having just taken my last dose. I still itch. Shouldn't I have stopped itching by now?
 (The poison ivy has improved--drastically, in some places. But it isn't gone. My itching hands and shins still contributed to my poor sleep last night.)


I just had to (or felt that I had to) admit to a guy I've been talking to that I might have met somebody cool and thus might not be around on the site much longer. So now I feel pretty bad. Great. (Cry me a river, I know. Watch it not work out, anyway. How often do these things work out? So far: 1-3 times in 25 years, that's how often.)


It has been raining a lot over in this part of the world. It's kind of nice, aside from the part where I don't get to do the outdoor work with Rick that I was supposed to do earlier in the week, and thus do not get paid for it. A particularly close bolt of lightning (and crash of thunder) shook the house quite hard this morning.

And when it is raining, I love hearing the birds still singing--even through the lighting and thunder sometimes. I guess I don't have much else to say about it. I just love those sounds together, and the symbolism that I can make up and put in there.


And here is a quote from Style Rookie, which I rarely read but which often amuses me when I do, despite my almost complete disinterest in style: "The thought of summer and its nearing end is causing me to make unnecessarily profound observations about the way the light is hitting all the crap on my desk while the sun sets."


This reminds me so much of myself, except that I make unnecessarily profound observations about the way the light is hitting all the crap on my desk (and so on) almost literally all the time.

A job.

A little bit of excellent news:

I have temporary employment. Beginning tomorrow I'll be helping some family friends re-paint their rental properties. I don't know how much work there will be or how much they'll pay me, but it sure beats sitting around the house, which actually pays nothing, if you were wondering.


I also heard that there's a coach who works at the same school as my father who has a sudden need for someone to watch her twin 18 month old boys after school. It's not really what I was looking for, but if she's still looking by the time I can get in touch with her (I've emailed but couldn't get her number), I'll take it. I'll also be leading a caving trip for a retreat next weekend with Maria, and possibly puppy-sitting again for a day.


In other news, here is something unsettling. I have no idea where Iva Messy gets her random smorgasbord of unrelated topics and information, but she does post some interesting stuff sometimes. This in particular is more of what's been thrown around for years now, but with some vague scientific backing and some specific names.

Also, an interview with Terry Pratchett, or at least an account thereof. For me this is like guiltily sneaking a piece of chocolate and hiding it behind the broccoli--I love reading things by or about TP, and I am so sad (for him and also for myself and my book collecting habits) that he has Alzheimer's, but at the same time there is a part of me that, when reading this, eagerly studies the psyche and coping mechanisms of a not-particularly-old man who has been diagnosed with the disease, and notes with interest the fact that he can still sign his name, but is otherwise unable to write at all. Brains are fascinating.*

Lastly, I'm not very big on politics, but I am all for this kind of humor.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
March to Keep Fear Alive
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes 2010 Election Fox News

*If anyone is ever looking to buy me a present, please allow me to direct you to Oliver Sacks. I have already read The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat.



I never fail to be amazed by the tags I have not yet used. For example, in the past two weeks I must have looked for "humor" six times before finally just adding it to the list. (Don't ask me, I have no idea why.) Just now I could have sworn that there was a "stuff I want" tag, but I settled for "gifts." As though that'll help me find this post in the future.