8.17.2019

"Floaties" in the eyes super-sized experience inside the cosmis rays of this epic sunshine... oh yea...Right now


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Memories; 3-D ‘floaties’ in the eyes gone BIG

5:21 pm
Saturday, August 17, 2019
A communique from Mum’s backyard porch

Sunny summer day; sunshine so dazzling, it is only necessary to be present. Listen. I’m a child. Listening to the breeze. Feeling the warm air dust my shoulders on this early evening. Quietness surrounds. The trees (Aspens) have a low, dull roar of shimmying. Sunlight plays in between the trees. Reminds me of hide-and-go-seek. Childhood memories; gold-shimmering low setting sun, sweet winds, innocence, whimsy.

Upgrade 2.0. This consists of much of the same elements, but a Keweenaw Brewing Company Borealis brōo can on the wrought iron table. Definitely looks strong enough to hold up this kick-ass can of beer- indeed! The ultimate last-minute over-the-top addition? Why yes, you guessed it: Da kine & da kine.

I was called into a higher awareness this afternoon when I got called into the kitchen to ‘help’, as mum so sweetly called out to me on the back patio while I was zoning out, reading my Ancient Mines of Kitchi-Gummi book on local Lake Superior lore. Like so much of the UP here (Upper Peninsula of Michigan), there is a lot of lore. Most have to do with shipwrecks, and this could be somewhat connected.  I use the word “could” quite liberally here as this entire book is possibly “could” make a connection to what the author ponders, rather adamantly in a passive-aggressive manner!

So yea, it’s an interesting book if you wanna check out an interesting read on  specialized local lore with a lot of Mesopotamian and Mycenean history- that is generally accurate actually- including the bit on Bahrain’s “Dilmun” civilization.

I digress… There seems a point I was hotly making. *lost*  Oh well. Onward I press.

The main point, lest I forget again, is that this was just an awesome awakening kinda day, here in America. I love falling in love with America all over again- during my annual returns.

On the Road Again I am. I love live on the road.  There are so many roads I seek to travel down. I love the energy, the challenges it provides, the introspection, the slowing down of time.

Listening to the coyotes’ hysterical laughter-like sounds during the Bewitching Hour. Being awake for the Bewitching Hour here is amazing to tune into. Honestly, there is so much to soak in during the Bewitching Hour- wherever in the world you’re vibbing.

Speaking of good vibbing, my mum is next to me on the porch reading Time Magazine, showing signs of slightly napping intermittently.
The sun just ducked behind the house and the shadows are stretched long- like a northern European Mannerist painting, but instead of an elongated neck of a human, I am staring at the elongation of trees.

We spent the afternoon making one of my brothers’ favorite dessert, apparently, but with blueberries substituted for lemons filling… It was pretty dodgy there for a fair bit, but in the end, I think it will taste fantastic because it was made with so much love and mad laughter.  At one point mum was laughing so hard that she was crying. Magic. It’s been that kinda day.  My Turkish meatball dinner prep won’t finish by itself, so I should tend to it now, but dammit if the weather just isn’t so dreamy.

Pine Mountain, another memory I celebrate every year by building onto those memories with sweat. Five hundred sweaty steps to be exact, climbing to the top of the ski mountain where, in summer while visiting we (most all of us at different times) converge and lower our blood pressure by climbing the stairs- at least one round, but as of late I’ve got it in my to complete 4 rounds. I love the challenge, the shaking legs, the quickening heartbeat, the sweat, that feeling of sunscreen dripping down from your trucker hat, past the outer corner of your eyeball, paralleling your nose to finally rest atop your upper lip.

The long shadow followed mum back into the house. One last patch provides a view of wild Turkeys foraging for uneaten corn, the infamous black squirrel that only speaks to brother Tim, feisty chipmunks, and some intrepid deer. It’s pretty relaxing, yes.

My apologies in advance for any sentence fragments, dangling story-endings, etc…
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