Tag Archives: Beloved

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Birth

I am born today anew. Why does birth feel like a rejection, like a spitting out from the shelter of a womb, a body, a mother, a community, a job? I gasp in the new unfamiliar air, unsure how to use my lungs in this place. This labor was not terrible, not as hard as ones in the past. The air and light are shocking, I open my eyes, what is this place? Too bright, I close them. Hands have me and then I am back with my mother. Not inside but against her skin. The lights are down and I open my eyes. It was dark, dark, dark in that womb, so I open my eyes wide, to take in all the new information. I am shocked and afraid, but my mother’s heartbeat reassures me. I hope I won’t be eaten. What is this place? And now I am hungry and I start to search, not sure how to do it, search for food.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: birthday.

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Under where?

Under the hazelnut tree. A squirrel alerted me to ripe hazelnuts this year and I picked all I could. Yum! Thank you, squirrel!

I have to watch Sol Duc when I am not holding the leash. She will sit for a long time and then suddenly trot off somewhere else. She has favorite spots where she can plot to catch birds.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: underwear! I thought about using this photograph, but I am job hunting. It might not be the best choice for now.

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Brilliant color

I took this on Saturday. This is the fire house. The leaf colors are fabulously brilliant this year. Often they are gone by now. We had a week where the night time temperatures were nearly freezing. Does that have anything to do with the brilliant colors?

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: brilliant.

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Ride Forth

I thought I had posted this, but I do not find it.

Ride Forth

My grandmother
Packed all her troubles in her saddlebags
And rode forth singing

My mother
Packed all her troubles in her saddlebags
And rode forth singing

My father
Was the only one
Who ever saw the contents
He tried to drown them

My mother was loved
For her charm

I ride forth
Sometimes I sing
Sometimes I weep

My saddlebags are empty

Prayer flags flutter
Slowly shred
In the wind

I write my troubles
And my joys
On cloth
And thank the Beloved
For each

My horse is white
When I sing
Black
When I cry
A rainbow of colors
In between
The whole spectrum
That the Beloved allows

After I emptied
My saddlebags
I tried to leave them
But the people I meet
Most, most, most
Are frightened

A naked woman
On a naked horse

I had to leave my village
When I learned to ride her
Made friends with her
Beloved
My village does not allow tears
When she turns black
Their saddlebags squirm and fight
The people try to throw them on my horse

In other places
The horses are all black
The white aspect of the Beloved
Frightens them
And they attack

I carry saddlebags
And Beloved is a gentle dapple gray
And the illusion of clothes surrounds me
When we meet new people
Until we know
It is safe to shine
Bright
And dark

I hope that others ride with the Beloved
In full rainbow

I ride forth
Sometimes I sing
Sometimes I weep

Even the color lonely
Is a part of the Beloved

________________________

The photograph is of a watercolor of my sister, Christine Robbins Ottaway, by my mother, Helen Burling Ottaway.

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Local traffic

Traffic at the cat bowl, November 2021.

Duck and coot traffic at Kai Tai Nature Park.

Laptop traffic. It’s busy.

Bushtit feeder traffic.

Great blue heron traffic. How many do you count in this tree?

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: traffic.

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Star

November means concert this year. I have sung in Rainshadow Chorale for 23 years now. My father was one of the eight people who started it in 1997. Concert this coming weekend!

My favorite song is the lobster one, though “Something like a star” always makes me tear up.

This is not concert attire.

The Unexpected Brass Band played yesterday too.

We will be birds, too, in the concert.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: November

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