Treasures

Looks like a giant sprinkled powdered sugar over the tall dark green conifers across the Big River. Or maybe it was only the River Spirit, rising up to give the cliffs some cool loving.  

The wind pushes the clouds away, exposing the snowy artwork. Wind always exposes. Inspires? Desires? Breathe in and out, in and out.

Dandelions cover our lawn. A pride of them. No, a herd of them. A grass savannah of them. Shhh. Can you hear them purr?

One morning not long ago, I dream I have finally mastered magic. I chant and enchant. Now I can heal. I wake up happy and excited. All will be well. And then my world spins. Vertigo keeps me betwixt and between for days. No wonder the Minotaur was so monstrous. Trapped as he was. 

Will I ever learn to read the signs?

One morning I dream a huge black panther is following us. My friend Evine is in the dream. I wake up worried something is wrong with her. I find out she is in the hospital. I call and speak with her.

On the Mystic Trail, a hummingbird darts from one salmonberry blossom to another. Seems like a strange flower for her. Maybe she just wants to say hello. Later on the trail, we spot a yellow flower, like a tiger lily only calmer, lighter. I fall in love. How can I not love a lily?

On Falling Creek Trail, I fall, hard. Thinking about the future, I miss the root or the stone. Down I go. Blood. Pain. I put my hands on the wound and chant. Enchant. It barely swells. I walk back to the car, my pant leg rolled up. A man stops and says, "You fell?" He laughs. "But you're alive!"

I dream of a tall bare tree. It is beautiful and stirring, backlit, and magnificent. I am afraid it will fall on me. Still. I love it. I stand, gazing at it.

I call my father. We talk about snow and then baseball. Then flowers and birds. I love hearing my father's voice. I love his laugh. His was probably the first laugh I heard. I bet he held me in his arms when I was born and laughed at the first thing I did. He read me stories when I was a child. I followed him through the woods and listened as he told me about this plant or that print in the dirt or that smell of snow in the air. Today he talks about impatiens and Mariano Rivera.

An orchid in a store speaks to me and asked me to bring her home. So I do. Now she sits on my kitchen table. The kitchen table is always cluttered with stuff. She told me she didn't like that. Now our kitchen table is clear, except for the orchid and bowls of fruit, garlic, and more fruit. She doesn't mind that. I sit and stare at her. I watch her seductive flowers slowly drop open. Is there anything more sensuous than a flower blooming?

I drape myself over my husband. I feel my legs over his legs, my belly pressed against his side. I suddenly feel like a dragon. I breathe into this dragon feeling. I am a dragon draped over my treasure. Mario laughs when I tell him this, and he holds me closer. 

The sun is out. The clouds are sinking down over the cliffs again, hiding the trees, and the sun, perhaps deciding enough has been revealed this day.