Words entering, left stage

Wow - a year has gone by with no words posted here. All things fair, words should start to sift into these pages in the next few days as I coast into 'relax' mode.

A Chair in My Heart

There is a chair in my heart

that will forever be yours

soft and comforting

enfolding and embracing

that fits your body perfectly

and sits you up

for all to see

as lover and best friend.

Within the circle

this patterned chair

of red and gold

braids you into my heart strings

twining like a vine

full with fruit

pouring to the

overflowing cup.

A bit like the Friendly Giant’s

living room complete

with fireplace

and a chair here for Rusty

and another here

moved close to the warmth

big enough for two to curl up in.

There is a chair in my heart

that will forever be yours

room enough for two.

When the Eagle Cries

The morning before your 58th birthday

you called me from bed;

I heard your call

and knew you were close by,

it was time to rise.

I watched your gaze

from the tall Fir tree,

and then you called again,

long and with meaning.

You looked well

healthy and ready for the day.

A single small feather

from your chest fluttered down,

curling toward neighbouring

Cedar and Fir;

I watched,

wondering if I could

see where it landed,

if it made it to earth.

You lifted your wings

gathering brown body under you

tucking strong legs up,

and flew west.

I watched you fly away

and thanked you for stopping by

to call me into the day and

remind me you are well

this dawn before

your 58th birthday.

Title borrowed from Joanne Shenandoah:

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wUYKWSf7UDo (music starts at 23 sec.)

Yes to Yachats!

Still my favourite spot on the Oregon Coast! Arrived here at 4 PM, checked in to the Adobe Resort, and walked the 416 trail to the beach. Flooded with good memories. Saw whales very close to shore, blowing and showing their tails. An enjoyable beverage in the loft of the lounge and then clams with drawn butter in the dining room, with a fabulous sunset out the window. Does it get better than this? There is a part of me that is steeped in romance.
If I do a 'south in the late winter' again on the Oregon Coast, it will be no further south than Yachats. My heart is here in so many ways and it is a part of the Oregon Coast that makes my heart sing.

Tomorrow morning is a walk on the beach . . .       the seven mile beach . . .       at low tide, then to the Green Salmon for the best Chai Latte anywhere, hands down. Eventually into the car and up the coast, stopping to stock up on my favourite cheese choices at the Tillamook Creamery. Maybe even an ice cream cone!

Goodbye to southern Oregon

We leave Brookings this morning to head north. We are going up to Yachats so that we can enjoy the long stretch of beach there which I have really been missing. I'm hoping a walk tonight and in the morning will help stretch the legs for both Lucy and I. The last two days have been wet, with the rain yesterday relentless and very heavy at times. This morning the skies have cleared a bit and I am sorry to see fresh snow on the hills close to here! It's pretty enough but we are in the 3rd week of March. . .
Connectivity and router problems, along with the weather, have dampened my enthusiasm a bit for this area. And the 2 weeks has gone quickly and we have managed to do some exploring on side roads and find a few new beaches.

On the road again . . . .

And as we all look forward to spring flowers, here's a link to a delightful 2 1/2 minute clip on the magic and mystery and wonder of creation that so soothes and feeds my soul:
http://vimeo.com/38265369

Signs, signs, everywhere are signs . . .

I have been impressed with the urgency of doing.

Knowing is not enough; 

        we must apply.

Being willing is not enough; 

        we must do.

Leonardo da Vinci

**********************

Seen on a sign in Brookings, Oregon:

When all is said and done,

more is said than done.

Thoreau continues to inspire

We do not commonly live our life out and full; 

we do not fill all our pores with our blood; 

we do not inspire and expire fully and entirely enough; 

 We live but a fraction of our life. 

Why do we not let on the flood, 

raise the gates, 

and set all our wheels in motion? 

Henry David Thoreau