Swimming into Summer

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It seems fitting that the joyous paddling of an otter brings in summer. The longest day is upon us, the solstice, the midsummer madness that fills our evenings with mirth and companionship of all sorts. The last of the peepers, the cry of the hawks, the swoop of the dragonflies in the twilight. This moment seems to exist outside of clock time, dancing to a beat all its own, whether we join in or not.

Gearing up

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I know summer must be coming even though spring never arrived. And thus, I am gearing up to do “things”: field trips, hikes, website updates, workshops, visits with friends and more. The season is fleeting even when it doesn’t start slowly, and I cannot afford to waste a moment. Old gears can be coaxed back into action, it is just a matter of effort and getting the rust off.

2,2,2&2

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This is a week of 2’s

                                                2 art show drop offs

2 massage appointments

2 therapy appointments

2 dentist appointments

I expect I will encounter more 2’s as the week progresses, it seems some odd curve the universe is sending. One that I can’t quite figure out……yet.

 

Long ago and far away

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Joe and I went to Calgary and then on to the Banff area. It was a very different time, we were young for one thing, had 2 very small children and the future unfurled before us uncluttered by any debris of life’s upsets. Now and close to home, it is also very different. Both children grown, we are older and a TBI has shifted the course we thought we were on. Life does that to everyone in some form or another, at one age or another. It is inevitable, yet so far the sun has continued to rise, the rivers continue to flow and trees grow and fall. Each day an adventure in a whole new way.

The light spills in

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Sunday we visited the Lexington/ Concord Massachusetts area. There were several old houses along our walk that sit in isolated locations, the road at a distance. Time capsules of a sort, neither in use nor out, their windows continue to watch the world go by. Only memories inhabit these houses, unless you believe in spirits or ghosts. How many tracks has the sun cut along these floors, sweeping across it and illuminating the dust motes. How many storms have battered the walls, cold drafts sneaking in to chill the ankles of those gathered around the fireplace. How many small feet pattered through the rooms, out the doors and on the stairs. While the building might not be old in comparison to castles and ancient dwellings, it is still part of a full, rich human history that is timeless.