By M.L. Smoker
The unsympathetic wind, how she has evaded me for years now,
leaving a guileless shell and no way to navigate. Once when I stood
on a plateau of earth just at the moment before the dangerous,
jutting peaks converged upon the lilting sway of grasslands, I almost
found a way back. There, the sky, quite possibly all the elements,
caused the rock and soil and vegetation to congregate. Their prayer
was not new and so faint I could hardly discern. Simple remembrances,
like a tiny, syncopated chorus calling everyone home: across
a thousand eastward miles, and what little wind was left at my back.
But I could not move. And then the music was gone.
All that was left were the spring time faces of mountains, gazing down,
their last patches of snow, luminous. I dreamed of becoming snow melt,
gliding down the slope and in to the valley. With the promise,
an assurance, that there is always a way to become bird, tree, water again.
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I spent way too much time on the phone on Tuesday with my sister, an out of town friend, and a local friend, so I didn't get the laundry done or a bunch of other things, but I did get my college graduation scanned and many parakeet photos saved, so all in all it was a good day. Also, it was beautiful and cool out again, so we had the windows open all day and took a walk in the afternoon to enjoy it.
We watched the first episode of Stargirl, which was a bit cliched but I'll give any show with a female superhero a second chance, especially now that Ruby Rose is leaving Batwoman and who knows what will happen with the show. We watched Legends of Tomorrow too, but zombies are never ever my thing! I haven't organized the honeymoon trip photos yet so here are some more from the 1992 trip west:
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