The Furious Spinner

I have hiked in the woods. Day after day after day. It is cold and dark in the woods. But circles of bright yellow, gold yellow, sun yellow, all sorts of yellow float in the darkness, like huge lightning bugs—only very different. The path curves. All kinds of dogs and people walk to and fro...talking of Michelangelo. The ferns are now coffee-with-cream colored. The Oregon grape and salal are still green, evergreen. Winter wrens flit from branch to branch, rock to rock, so tiny and fast they seem improbable. Always the water, the sound of the water, drowning out the roaring in my ears. We sit by the river and listen, watch. Three waterfalls now instead of one. Isn’t that a bit of a miracle? Shhhhh. Don’t tell anyone...

One night we drive to Portland to eat. Afterward, BTO sings "American Woman" on the radio, and I unroll the window and sing out into the darkness, my hands dancing to the music.

We've got to keep dancin'. Apparently Michael Venture agrees with me in his article “Dancing in the Dark.” It's a good piece. I'm thinking on some of what he's saying—I'm not sure I agree with it all, especially the part about respecting the people who voted for Bush. But I don't have to agree with everything he says. That's the beauty of thinking for one's self. I can pick and choose. In the end, however, he reminds us to dance. Like I've been saying...

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All photographs and written material copyright © 2003-2008 by Kim Antieau unless otherwise indicated. May not be used without permission.