On Writing About What I Know

In April I believe in lilac, tulip, daffodil – such stark color. Such stretch and mess, then a falling away.
In Seattle I believe in salmon, Space Needle Views, Pike’s Place Market. Such bustle and choice, then noise, fried fish and a belief, above all things, in a cold beer or espresso.

In motherhood’s first few years, as one child clutched star-eyed to my hand as another grew behind belly button’s curtain, I believed I’d always view my eldest as a baby, my first baby.
Now, such change spied behind camera’s click, all wonder as time flies.
Here, I believe in love’s look, on lost teeth’s verge and I have caught everything in this picture – a girl growing up. Such glitter in the eyes as they ask who will I be, what will I become?

In fog’s drizzle I believe in an airport – an escape to beach, sunshine, warmth. Such distance and baggage, then a humid sigh.
In equator’s grasp I believe in too much sunscreen, a bowl of fresh fruit and, always, feet bare, free. Such laughter and splash, after splash, in hours spent pool-side.
In equator’s grasp I believe in ridiculous inflatible baby contraptions for shade and feet’s underwater flutter. Such calm and joy in hours spent pool-side.

There’s a place on the globe where grandparents and pelicans call home, where flowers bloom bright while calenders turn page after page & where Banyan trees catch our imagination. Such trees, those Banyans, with such spark for fort’s wish, playhouse’s platform and endless, endless climbing.

In vacation’s dream-state I learn what I can do without and what can be made anew. Such sand on the beach baby, all kicks and waves in Rubermaid’s bath.

When the sun drops and sky’s bright blue begins to whisper sunset’s secret, a kite soars as girls giggle. Such sisterly love when hands hold, braids unwind and evenings first light turns to blonde.
I believe in my father running out of his flip flops for kite’s upward wish, as much as I believe in love’s look up at all which soars above us, all those hearts and clouds – wishes on wind.

Not knowing why some childhood friends linger on and others fade, I believe, above all things, in the everlasting ones. Such joy in feelings stirred while they love on my babes. Such truth felt when friends feel like family, all memories and inside jokes.

One day when I was sixteen, I entered Noank’s Bettle Cat Race and fell in love with an aptly named Beetle Jenn. Eighteen years later, Beetle Jenn sails warmer waves, rocks little skippers asleep.
Such memory in her planks, such responsibility in the buckling of a life jacket, such beauty in the wind on her canvas.

So many heads sat in front of my mother, such work for those fingers in shears – all those hairdressing years. Before her, now, a little girl in unwilling stillness frets first’s cut.
I believe, now, that one may wait a lifetime for the most important clients.

In love, I believe in generations and the vast distances traveled.
Still, leaving coast’s eastern shores, everything I could call relative changes somehow. Family roots, frayed, unended and scattered.
Still, such joy felt while introducing family tree’s newest leaf.
I believe in The Gulf of Mexico, water aqua, albeit whimsical, waving for play. I believe in sunlight and sisterly synchronized shadow dancing. Little ones bent at waves break as if to kneel in gratitude for seashell, seashell and seashell. An endless collecting of treasure, then, shark’s teeth underfoot.
Arriving home, light shines through a mason jar filled to the brim with shark’s teeth and beach’s silence. Such joy in a sandcastle built where dolphins play. Such sweet, sweet smells – all sea salt and coconuts.

[Greatest Baby Bonnet]

[Lovely Bonnet & Fabulous Bonnet]


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