Tag Archives: sky

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Meditation

Fish fly in the ocean, water is their sky
their lives in three dimensions, they jump into the air
escaping larger fish, schools of large and small fry
but up above their ceiling fly birds who eat them there
I dwell on the flat, can jump on land or fly in planes
go right or left or back or front, but less up and down
did seals come onto land but regret the ocean main
return to ocean free again to swim around
my daughter’s team synchronized at the surface of the pool
legs held straight out then spiral down into the water’s embrace
breath held, they disappear, they seem to break the rules
of oxygen. I hold mine too until they surface for a space
fish fly in the ocean, water is their sky
sometimes we dream of heavens where we remember how to fly

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My daughter was a synchronized swimmer from age 7 to high school, then swim team. Her comfort in the element of water is way beyond most people.

My daughter entering her other element.

The close picture was taken with my zoom lens, but she was not close at all.

I was “life guarding” though she was out far enough that there was not much I could do.

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For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sturdy. I am not sure why. I was thinking that the ocean is sturdy and that fish can swim in more dimensions than we humans on land. And swimmers are sturdy too.

I took the first photograph in 2017 at the Baltimore Aquarium.

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Lions

The sea lions that I wrote about look static in my still pictures from Marrowstone, here. I am zoomed all the way in with my Canon PowerShot SX40HS, and in bright sunlight hand held, I can’t really see much through the camera. I try to get it in focus and hold it still.

But yesterday I found a rock and tried to take a film, a movie! The sea lions are not static at all. The tide was going out, so the little island off the southern part of Marrowstone was rising from the waters. The sea lions are getting on the island as it appears. And perhaps not agreeing about position. It is amazing to watch how quickly the island changes.

Here is a sea lion film! I propped my camera on a rock, but got early wiggles turning the camera on and off, too. But there is a lot going on between the motion of the water, the sea lions, the sail boat and birds. Not to mention the small plane. I do not think the sea lions liked it.

I think I need to take a tripod and really set up. Next project!

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: film.

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Beach finds

I picked this agate up. See how it looks like a Gummi Bear, a different texture than the other rocks? The clear ones light up when the sun is polarized. It is harder to find them when it is not sunny.

This is not an agate, but some agates are this color. I try not to bring occupied houses home.

This is an agate too, not clear, but lovely color and striping.

Here is another clear one:

I am not the only creature searching the beach.

These were taken on Marrowstone Island and on the beach below Chetzemoka Park in Port Townsend.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: find.

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catch

Catch

What bucket can catch this light and color?
None, I think, and then I think I am wrong.
A bucket lowered and set in the water,
Turquoise and blue and black, a song.
Lift the bucket and the turquoise is gone.
Reflected light, a dance on on the riffles.
It’s like the happiness for which we long.
Caught for a moment, containment stifles
the reflection of joy in our face and hearts.
The face that lights from music or dance
or a moment touched by another’s art.
Let joy come and go, take the chance.
The light on the water will be gone at night.
Joy wants to be free and not held too tight.

I heard the band The Winetree last September in Ohio.

Sonnet 17.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bucket.

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Seal of approval

Signed, sealed, delivered but not aligned
we arrange ourselves with hands like fins
we arrange ourselves according to time
the island shrinks as the tide rolls in
the island hides in the moon pulled sea
our fur warmed in the sun’s brief kiss
we roll in the waves and dive so deep
we roll into the water to play and fish
the fish flock to school to avoid our teeth
we chase and catch and eat our fill
now the island is a shallow rock reef
the flash of the fish as they come to grief
the tide rolls in, the tide rolls out
we climb back on our island as it climbs out

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I walked south on Marrowstone Island two days ago. The tide was starting to come in. The little island is covered when the tide is high and everyone has to go swim. I think they were enjoying the sun as much as I was.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: align.

And speaking of seals:

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Sinecure

Sinecure

Sometimes patients are a mystery.

A relatively young man comes to see me.
Problems, a bit intricate, I type a thorough
history as we talk. I make suggestions
and he is to return in a few weeks.
He receives a copy of the note and plan
spit out by the printer.

He returns. There is a pain component.
He does not bring the journal I suggested.
He seems no better. I add a little to the plan
and suggest that he return again.

And again and again. Fourth visit. No journal.
“What have you tried that I have suggested?”
He replies, “I haven’t read your notes yet.”
“You haven’t read my notes yet? In three months?
I’ll tell you what: how about you return after
you read my notes and try some
of my suggestions. Why come in if you aren’t interested
in trying anything?” I do not go to rage.
It is not my problem. It is his problem.
If he doesn’t like the plan or doesn’t want to read
(yes he can read) or doesn’t want change,
that is his choice. Don’t waste my time.

He does not return.

It is a mystery. What did he want?
Why didn’t he tell me if he wanted something else?
If it was opiates perhaps he asked around
and decided I am the wrong “provider”
since I am very careful about those provisions.

A mystery. I wonder if it could have played out
differently. Then I let it go and move on.

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For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sinecure.

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The weight of water

Sometimes water looks light and flighty in photographs, but here is Crocker Lake, with the water looking thick and deep. A mirror, inviolate. A surface that we can almost believe we can step on. Water IS heavy.

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The weight of water

You don’t realize the weight of water

I say I am a sea, deep, the emotions on the surface only
you dismiss me, female, lesser, emotional, unimportant
except for your uses. I should be receptive, listen, not speak.
You have no interest in my life, except when you want
my services.

You don’t believe me until the day
you look down and fall. The waters close
over your head. The weights you’ve tied
around your ankles carry you down down.
Welcome to the depths.

Welcome to the weight of water.

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For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: thick.