A little, green camping spot, two yearling dear curled up sleeping alongside us, inside our cosy camper trailer. A tall, buzzing tree, filled with humming birds and naughty blue-jays and yellow butterflies. A fire, alive with orange molten energy, buffer of warmth against the cold, starry night. Lake Ozette, calm ripples venturing forth to explore distant shores, lines of fluffy green pines trees. A forest, every inch teeming with curling, growing, seeking, earthy-smelling life. Curly roots creating little caves beneath trees, where once a nurse-log slept. Dense woods, huge trees, delicate moss, and suddenly an increasing span of light, getting closer, bursting into the forest ... the coast! The Pacific Ocean, waves curling in, reflecting sunlight, bold, bright, gleaming. Into the icy sea I dive, catching a Pacific wave for the first time since Australia! Eowyn and Cosette, delighted, play in the sea, seemingly not noticing how chilly 'tis. Bens and I discover a delightful haven which we name 'Flotsam House', made of logs, bleached and pounded into beach bones by the sun and the surf. My naked skin touches the sand, warm, soft, encompassing, and as I bathe in the sun, a part of me which is normally asleep in NW USA awakens ... Megan the surfie chick! Yeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!
Popular posts from this blog
Personal Statement – Iowa Writers’ Workshop
Wonderful blogging community, I'm posting this statement with two purposes. 1. It kind of summarises where I want to be going, which I want to share with you 2. I'd love feedback! They've asked me to: "Include your purpose in pursuing graduate study, any research you wish to pursue, and your future vocational goals." Thanks for reading this - I feel honoured by your interest in my life!! I want to write a novel, with beautiful sentences and adroitly crafted chapters. Since preschool I have read voraciously, and appreciate exquisite writing in multifarious forms. I have natural writing talent, and derive deep satisfaction from creating prose, yet I have spent my life longing to write novels and not doing so. The work I am submitting came into existence because I was applying to attend the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Belonging to this writing community would enable me to be disciplined in producing literature. The tutelage and mentoring I would receive is something I y
Lymphoma, Stage Four
Today, I am sitting on the hardwood floor, in our lounge room. My body feels pretty normal. My neck aches a little, my tummy is full of dinner, my mouth tastes nicely, of the drink I just gulped. I am weary from a day of work, and the transition of coming home to my beautiful, energetic, noisy children. Benjamin is cycling home in the darkness. I am always happier when everyone is safely home. My biggest fear is one of my loved ones dying. Oh, and I have lymphoma, stage four. What does this even mean? I'm just me. Mortal, but that is in the one-day-far-away category, isn't it? The doctor, bizarrely, told me there are a lot of little lymphomae, tripping around my lymph system, like jiggling jelly-fish in a warm sea. Some of them have twisted all together, left of my belly-button, and I can feel them. An 8cm x 5cm mobile mass, says the computerised tomography report. I can feel lumps in my neck and groin, and can imagine these funny little lymphomae, dancing around
Comments
the end.