Crescent City

Tasting the first moments of our adventure to the Redwoods!  Mom and I trekked as far as Crescent City tonight - where we are now stopped in a little hotel.  Looking forward to a fresh adventure tomorrow.  Tonight's journey brought us down dark, windy roads cast with the constant glow of ominous tree trunks crowding every curve of the highway.  And, the thrill of seeing them just leaves me giddy!
Mom and I talked about how lucky we feel to be only excited to be trapped in the car together for hours/days on end with no sense of dread as so many other people have told us they would feel with their family.  Not us though.  We picked the lucky straw and get to just have a good time.  We sang along to Nat King Cole and David Gray and played bird-call games on her phone "there's an app for that!".
So far - having a blast and loving that we get four more days of fun.  Tomorrow we add to our company with Anna and Henry and their son Satto!

It's just beginning!

lonesome when you go

He's been my boy for three years this August.  Not a single day has gone by that Misfit hasn't been front and center, eager and ready for any amount of snuggling you can dish out and usually far more than you can stand to give - he always wants more.  Even now, as I type this, he is purring and forcing his cheeks against my hands, pawing at my arm trying to get it wrapped around him.  He follows me from room to room, keeps me company when I take a bath; nudges my face in adoring kisses; purrs when i tell him how much i love him; squawks frantically at the window- pacing back and forth- before i can get in the front door when he hears my car pull up; he plays whatever games the neighbor girls want him too, following them down the sidewalk, chasing sticks endlessly for them; he spoons and hugs (I woke up this morning with my arm wrapped around him and his arm draped over my shoulder, his head beneath my chin - fast asleep).

I'll be lonely when you're gone, little prince.

oh wistful day

oh wistful day. would you dance with me? down memory lane. over daydream's pass and on. on to my romantic moon for one sweet waltz

got my chin up and my nose to the grindstone, my hands are at my heart and my little toes are planted firmly on the joy trail.

Ankeny

It was late evening and the sun was setting a golden shimmer over the refuge - it took my breath away. Feeling like a trespasser on a private moment where the sun made sweet love to the glistening water and grassy meadow, my heart tightened and swelled with pulsing love for this place.
I chose to walk without camera or binoculars tonight. Somehow, the sweet torture of using only my own senses to identify and remember magnified my impulses. I felt moments of anxiety - wanting to see a bird more closely, wanting to capture the exquisite sunset, wanting wanting wanting. It was annoyingly gorgeous. I wanted to share it with the world, I wanted to keep it all wrapped in a bottle in my soul. The swell of passion left me giddy, excited, humbled. Awe for this world, this life, this love is the fine grains of sand filling my spirit and aching to share a grain with you.

And the soul beats

made with love from a photo I took last night.

Like I Love The Moon

I love you like i love the sun

The soaring caverns of my heart fly for you
Through greys and blues of clouded time and feathered wing
I love you with a rippling flame and a roaring wave

When I kiss you, it is the sun kissing Horizon's breast,
And the moist spring licking over smooth rock which tastes your lip

I love you with Summer's sultry heat

In a golden fever on the aching end of desire
And the simple lull of sleepy grasses blowing kisses to the night

I love you like the delicate petal

Rooted with strength and grown in Serenity's soil
You are the bloom in my cheeks and every blossom in my garden

You are my sun and moon, my love.

Unfinished

Lost in a daydream's song
Lost on the wing of a sparrow
Gone into the wild wind
Gone across the path I follow

Deeply frowning against the weight
Deeply feeling the need to release
Softly praying the wing knows where
Softly hoping the tall oak sees