Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Palms for Pinyons

Hiver in the sun

This year, I traded palms for pinyons.
Instead of fleeing winter for beaches and sun,
I embraced the season, relished the chill.
In the mountains, they know how to do winter.
My choice was rewarded by sixty-degree days;
I wore nothing but a t-shirt and jeans,
walked along the country road,
breathed the crisp air at five thousand feet,
felt the sun on my arms and face.

Cloud on mountain

My grandmother lives far away;
a forty-minute train ride,
two-hour flight,
three-hour drive...
As we traveled, I felt a complaint
rise up within me,
Why does she have to live all the way out here?
my tired brain whined.


In the morning as I looked out the window
at the sunrise over the mountains, I knew.
I ran out on her porch in my slippers,
climbed up on a bench to get a better view,
my heart full, eyes brimming.
Is there anything that compares to a sunrise
in a big, clear Colorado sky,
the familiar peaks tinged with rose and gold?

Rose-tinged mountains

colorado sunrise

Dogs bark, and a coyote yelps in the distance,
their chorus bounces off the mountains,
the sound traveling far in the thin morning air.
The mayor of Chickasaw--
a black Newfoundland named Bear--
holds court in the valley.

Mr. Mayor

Most of the things in Bajee's little house
were created by her hands.
"Beloved pots," paintings, sculptures, dishes and clothes.
The smells have never changed:
pine-laden mountain air,
clay and paint,
Bajee's perfume,
sunshine, somehow.

Bajee mugs

sunlit curtains

No elaborate, fancy getaway was this,
but simpler and more refreshing;
with nothing to distract me from drinking in beauty
and reveling in relationships.
Listening to stories of a fully-lived life,
and learning a little about where I came from
to help me imagine what's yet to come.


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  2. All true... I was there. A magical few days, but an even more magical retelling, with words and photos by the "Doll." Thank you so much!