Summer Mondays
June 27th, 2009I sway back and forth, dancing with the motion of the earth as it spins unforgotten until the shape-shifting waters tremble. Ebb and flow, drift and twist - the briny freshness burning my eyes as I rub them with wrinkled fingers through button shut eyelids. Dancing with the raw force; now it’s soft and caressing, gently encouraging my limbs. And now it pulls and insists with or without my consent. My body is taut but compliant as I give my ground with as much grace as I can muster. And it pushes me like a skilled tango master, it’s fingers forcing my waist and hips this way and that. I emerge from the icy-but-refreshing (as only my Pacific Northwest Native mind would think) waters and feel the force of gravity hit me as though a harness has been thrown over my shoulders. I sway now with the perceived stillness as my body reacquaints itself with the predictable spin of the globe.
The sand is golden honey tan, slate pewter-grey and baby-cheek pink, and I rest with my head cradled in the warm lap of the beach. The robin’s egg sky above is broken only occasionally by a wisp of cloud or the geometric black and white wings of a gull. Every now and then the breeze kicks up and a chill runs the length of my body, lightening-fast eruption out of my skull, my hair on end as the energy of the cold escapes. For a thousand years I lay there; or maybe it is only a few minutes. My thoughts in and out of the present, called to the forefront only when my senses are confronted. I’m day dreaming grandiose plans; intricate and detailed, and impossibly optimistic – you’d think I was still six or something. And the raucous caw of the birds sings an afternoon lullaby into my wavering consciousness.


































