The Furious Spinner

The earth shakes; the volcano blows. Sighs. Breath of the Divine, of the center of the Earth. Here, Mario and I pull out the fence around my garden. We trample over the deer hoof prints in the soft earth. Ahhhh. With the fence gone, I feel as though I can breathe—along with my rosemary, lavender, and sage plants. This year, because of the drought, I'm considering not putting in a garden. After the fence is down, I remember why I put it up in the first place: dogs and cats pooping everywhere. Ah well. I decide to wait and see.

Spend hours on the phone trying to find a place for Linda's benefit. Days. I can hear the weariness in her voice, the disappointment. I tell her it'll be fun. We'll have balloons, entertainment. It will be a festival. She is excited by this prospect. I hear her smile over the phone. I hope she remembers this conversation later. Another friend is diagnosed with breast cancer. Six people in our immediate circle either have cancer or had had cancer.

At work I wonder if I know what I'm doing. Feel dizzy and sick. Mario is with me, though. Always better with him. After, we go to the refuge. We stand in the marsh and watch the swans. In the distance is an old mill. Surrounding us is dry blond grass, rattling in the wind. Is that the right word? They sound like thousands of rattlers getting ready to strike. No. It's a more soothing sound than that. The breath of the Divine again—the dry grass is the voice box of the Divine. Or at least the voice box of this marsh. I want to stretch out on the grass, make it my bed. But Rapunzel needs it all to spin into gold. Strange thoughts as the swans drift by.

Mario is ill by morning. I make him miso soup. He sleeps and drinks water. We find out someone has been using our credit card number. Stealing from us. Lots of phone calls to figure it out. We rarely use our credit card, try to figure out how it happened. Doesn't matter. I walk around town doing errands. Wobbly. I stop at the old maple. The leaf buds appear white against the blue sky. Tiny lights on the big old tree. I find a place for Linda's benefit.

I spend the evening curled up on the couch with Mario. Wish I could heal him. Wish I could heal everyone. Including myself. We hear explosions in the distance. Sounds just like fireworks. We look outside, and the sky is full of colored spots. As though the stars in the sky had only been seeds and now they were bursting into bloom. I watch and think, of course, spring is here. It is part of the turning of the wheel of the year. I lay my head on Mario's lap again and feel his breath on my face. It is all divine. 0 comments

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