emotions, holidays, memories

reflecting

An old photo, captured in the rain through wet glass.

I am,” I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair

[Neil Diamond, 1971]

Reminiscing tonight.

These years, Thanksgiving is a big production. I’m thinking back, though, to when I was 25, many years ago, to the year I did Thanksgiving all by myself. I can’t imagine doing this now, but I cooked a frozen turkey TV dinner for myself. Swanson’s or whatever. I was okay with it, but I remember talking to my mom on the phone, as was our ritual for years mid-day on Thanksgiving, and how bad she felt about my being alone.

I was embarrassed to tell her I didn’t mind, that I was planning to enjoy my four-day weekend. I had off from work Thursday and Friday, and of course the rest of the weekend, which was a real treat. It was my first grown-up job, and I hated it. And for four days, there would be no job. No stress. No pressure. No emotional drama about who was there, and how we were getting along. Relationships had ended, as they do sometimes, and all I had to worry about was me. Just to put my frozen dinner in the oven, and to take the aluminum tray out when the timer buzzed. I was okay with being alone. It was just me that November, and I don’t know why, but I was totally cool with being alone. It was me and my apartment. My couch and my TV, and my stereo and albums. And whatever has happened in my life, I have good feelings about that one-bedroom apartment.

I don’t have memories about the Christmas that followed. I probably flew home. But I remember that I got a little three or four-foot artificial tree for myself, for my living room window, and I went to Macy’s, which was Hecht’s back then, and bought some crystal icicle ornaments for the tree. I also bought a gold-colored angel topper that I still have today. The icicle ornaments all fell either that Christmas or the next, and broke, all of them, sadly too fragile for realistic use. My gold angel lost her wings. How or when, I don’t recall. But my angel has survived, minus her wings, and I would indeed feel a sense of great loss if something happened to her. One Christmas I couldn’t find her, and I missed her terribly. I’m sure she represents to me something I can’t explain about myself.

I am … I cried.
I am … said I.


It feels good  to recall these formative times,
That are part of life,
When we’re alone with ourselves,
And we hold together.
We survive.

___________________________

© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

november, seasons

moving along

It’s cold so you need a jacket tonight, and the wind is blustery, leaves rustling, still clinging to branches above me in the trees. The moon’s high, shining bright behind tall oak trees in an otherwise open sky. And we’ve made it, yes, we’ve made it, to an old familiar rite of passage called November.

Turning the page, and making it past transitions. Truth be told, I’m awful at transitions, more okay once I get there. September, October, I didn’t get there yet. I held tight to summer habits, to the bliss and freedoms that probably didn’t even exist in the summer months. When I get to November, I feel like I can switch gears and roll through the next few months, even when it’s not really true. I’m not dismayed by winter. I would definitely miss it if there wasn’t a  good hard winter. Christmas and the holidays are one of my favorite times, and I’m cool with January. It’s almost sure to bring some frozen times and a good snow or two. I wish no one had to work when it snows, but I’m selfishly glad when I am snowed in. I try  to not schedule important appointments in January, and I like a good snowed in feeling. Under the covers with some good winter movies, and nothing else that’s too pressing. Come February, I’m hoping I can coast the rest of the way to spring.

I took this picture on the last day of October, but it looks the same today. So…moving along…yay, November.

___________________________

© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

horse

freedom

Freedom.

When it happens in nature, it comes with a visual, doesn’t it? A kite free-floating high above the waves of the ocean. A bird circling the open sky on a summer morning.

But this September evening, cool, not-quite misty, it’s a different visual, a visual grounded in green earthy tones, not a sight from above, and a blue, cloudless sky. It’s a horse out to pasture, hardly bound in its spacious domain. There are other horses too, not far, grazing in their own space. A well-kept barn, a place of refuge for when they choose to escape the elements. And a caring human who brings feed every day, who calls a vet when it’s needed. When I look out at this bucolic moment, the essence is in the breadth, and in the expanse. I hear the gentle whisper, I feel the tug, and see the soothing visual…freedom.

___________________________

© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.


whimsy

summertime . . . 13


The air was saturated from last night’s rain, and the morning sun was shining bright.

The short-lived whimsy of summertime shows in lucky moments, a function of nature, of plant life, and sunlight, and raindrops. And serendipity. Fleeting moments that rush along, quick as a hummingbird’s wings.

I was glad I decided to head out early that muggy morning.

Hush ….


___________________________

© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

seaside

summertime . . . 7

The peace that rises from the ocean.

When I get to the beach, it calms and soothes and calls out to a part of my soul. A part that lives and waits for its powerful reassurance. Powerful and gentle, and real as the morning’s breeze.

White caps, out a ways, wavy lines peak and take their turn, spilling onto the sand, waves crest, come ashore and bubble on morning’s pristine sand, ocean waves break and travel onto shore, repetitive assurance, gentle assurance, waves come, waves fall back, rest assured, my soul, the ebb and the flow lives as it should, we can relax and be as we live out our destiny.

That peace.

___________________________

© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.