I think my small stones this January are coming from all over the place - outside nature, outside events, inside my mind and thoughts, on my body. But I don't think it matters. Just so I pay attention for a bit of time and write down what I’m paying attention to. For example, I had to write today's stone about how I'm feeling because experiencing Denver's cold dry air for a couple of days played such havoc on my body. It is hard not to pay attention to it.
Here are my January 2012 River of Stones musings so far.
As the morning cold blows through my house like winter, my skin cannot bear my icy touch.
The trees stand like shadows against the morning fog, their branches dripping down dew.
Little Daniel was twelve when he took his life two years ago. I look at his face, all pure innocence, so young. His straight blond hair raggedly cut almost covers his eyes. Yet, there is a wiseness in him, in the way he looks so intent and focused. He makes me cry. I want to save him from his tragic fate. But, it is much too late.
I look out at the still, waning day. The palm trunks still wet with morning midst.
I read with tears about the death of the oldest Holocaust survivor and I marvel at his perseverance to survive and his love of family and life. I want to shout out his story to the world. We can all learn from it.
I’m sitting like a lump today, my head so close to my computer screen I can practically taste it. I’m aimless, lacking creativity and zest, so with that, I’m going to get up from this chair, take a little walk around the house, and sit back down and get back to work.
The plane is bouncing, that and its roaring engine noise and the giggling girls in the back make me uncomfortable and edgy.
I watch and listen to my great-niece Alyssa perform her Bat Mitzvah Torah portions and I remember my own almost fifty-nine years ago. I wore a navy blue shirtwaist dress trimmed in white with a little embroidered peter-pan collar. And coincidentally after Alyssa’s service my cousin gave me an old black and white photo of me in that dress.
The sun beams down on the snowy fir tree branches. It looks like a holiday greeting card outside today. Unfortunately, puddles are forming underneath already.
The cold dry high altitude air has made everything dry – my throat is scratchy, my skin itches, my eyes are red and runny, and my cuticles are peeling off in shreds. I’m glad to be back to my warm damp beach climate.