Love and Spaghetti
say that cold was brewing
strong winds forecasted
i zoomed home to fetch my loves
headed down 64
over the gorge bridge
toward a ranch full of ghosts
where Georgia O’keefe
paints the mountains
along the blue horizon,
I snapped bits of golden leaves
and cloud-shrouded rivers
into the shutter of my mind
what i couldn’t fit
i stuffed into my camera
i felt like a thief
pack-ratting souvenirs of love
we were here.
we were a family.
we still do.
It’s the little moments. Everyone always says so. And not until we slow down willingly (or life forces our hand) do we realize the wisdom of the moment. The Here and Nowness of it all. The joy of being.
I had a total breakdown two nights ago, as I went to give Izzy a new medication, knowing this was/is one of our final steps in keeping her comfortable. Other than the coughing, you would never know she’s sick. It’s business as usual…running in the park. Going for rides. Eating dinner and asking for treats. Then the cough stops her in her tracks and my heart bleeds from my chest. Moments.
Moments past. Moments remaining. Moments now.
Like this one. The sound of golden leaves underfoot. Leaves crunching. Trees sighing. Children laughing. Lovers kissing, holding hands, paws wrapped ’round their hearts like twine.
Magic. It’s around us all the time.
In the warm, brown adoring eyes
of a furry soul companion
with the wind in her hair
in the yellow golden fiery eyes
of autumn leaves as they
sail to the ground
in the grey-blue smoldering eyes
on the cheeks of a raincloud
watching you drive by…
Magic. It’s everywhere you choose to see it.
How many of us live with priceless moments that no one is there to witness but us? Ordinary moments. Golden. I could not let this one pass. It’s Izzy and me this morning at the coffee shop. As I was working on a chapter of her book, she was being courted by the Sand Man.
As her eyelids drooped heavier, all I could hear in my head was Mary Poppins.
And just like that, I was seven years old, slipping under the covers to dream of sidewalk chalk drawings and carousel horses that ride through the park.
Thank you, Izzy, for remembering my dreams.
The day dawns bright blue with silver edges. The cottonwood trees scatter their yellow leaves all over the ground like a leafy road leading to the Emerald City. The air smells of apples and sunshine. There’s nothing for it, today MUST be seized in our clutches and captured in heart, mind and film. We hit the roads of Taos to explore the beauty of Autumn, tourists in our own town. And my heart bursts wide open. Not from sadness. Not from the temporariness of it all. But from beauty. So much beauty I explode into a thousand pieces of happy.