Into the Wind

Today the wind blew so hard that I had to lean forward to keep walking along the shore. There were huge white caps and the surface of the water responded to the wind like an animal raising its hackles- dark fur bristling. A friend of mine saw a whale breach out there just this week. I've never seen one but I live in hope.

Down at the creek the path is littered with tree tops from the cottonwoods and it smells like ganj. I don't mind: sometimes that is good medicine. There are so many branch tips on the path that I imagine that the tops of the trees have been blown smooth and I remember an article that my friend Lisa sent me about how this time, this now is like those rock tumblers that polish precious stones…that we are all having all of our rough edges tumbled off. I think about this. I hesitate. I like silver linings. It does feel like that. And also much worse 

 Also I missed my sweetheart today. We have this new schedule challenge and missing him hit me in the chest like a wood plank. It bent me over at the kitchen table. Brought me to tears. OK maybe that's because I was also doing my taxes…but that's the thing: it's everything, isn't it? Right now, it’s everything: the broken trees, the pushing wind, the deadly news, the jeering tweets, the dead bodies, hate and the rage and the lack of breaching whales.

Bright side: I get my son back today and I have missed him so much that my lips crumple just thinking about it. Underbelly: that means I won't have alone time with my sweetheart for two weeks, and I am lonely and brokenhearted just thinking about it. 

Sunshine stands at the edge of the bank looking at me: "Aren't we going down to the creek?" He notices when we don't greet the elements, I swear it. So I walk down to the sandbar that is new since last winter’s rains changed the shape of the shore... I remember how I felt last November, which is the rainiest month of the year, and I face east and I try to think of something to be grateful for and all I can think of is just the air that I breathe and the fact that words can express love as well as hate and the wind hits the treetops above me, sudden and loud and I am thankful for poetry and I am thankful for the impact of the truth tellers. 

I face south and I try to think of something to thank fire for and I am thankful for motherhood which is the fiercest thing I have ever known and which will never let me give up. 

I face west and try to think of something to thank water for, and I am sobbing now and that is a relief and I am thankful that I can feel how hard this all is. Numbness is so much worse. 

And then I face north. The Alder branches stir. The chandeliers of maple seeds are hanging. I am thankful for the silence that is ahead. I am thankful for the chance to reshape things that winter brings.