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There's a rumor, this time ...

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Light comes slowly in the woods. Time wears no wristwatches here. There's a rumor this time is the time. No more tampering with clocks from now on.  Will light come slowly out there, beyond the edge of Alder's shadow?  ~ In town today we saw our friend who lives rough, holds a sign as if to help others with a language they would rather not understand. HOMELESS, Need Help Pete stopped the car when he saw the shorter man in the rear view mirror. "How you doing? How was the winter? We been wondering 'bout you?" Light comes slowly in the woods. Time wears no wristwatches here. There's a rumor this time is the time. No more tampering with clocks from now on. Will light come slowly out there, beyond the edge where rooted, footed, settled, owned, rented properlies squeeze all else tightly. NO ROOM, No Help ~ A page from Mrs Noah's Pockets  In bed today we lay together in the dark where light comes slowly in t...
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Fasten your safety pins!

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"It was a day a duck could love. For that matter the week was a duck's paradise. Dressed for the season in my long skirt, paisley wool shawl, and tea cozy hat with the red hibiscus over my left ear my feet splashed in puddles... The wind began to dance with me as I lifted my nose and sniffed from beneath the felt hat now much soaked through with rain. No fairies. But, a large copper pin about the size of a butterfly dropped from the cherry red awning above me and landed on my right shoe. A pin. A safety pin. "My Ma, "I said to myself. Besides being famous for carrying a flashlight my mother always wore at least one but more often a couple safety pins. Just in case. Long before it was punk fashion, safety pins are a talisman of security hard-wired in my DNA like knowing how to make something out of nothing. I fondled the pin and felt the distance of time between us compress... The Safety Pin Cafe Years ago, and not far away, we lived in the woods at t...
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Getting comfortable with the opposite of loss

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"Thirty years of grief and longing have given her face the look of something too often folded and creased; a smile seems unfamiliar, And she tries it on now as she might some garment that she's almost certain will not suit. "They try to prepare you for loss," she said. "It never occurs to them to prepare you for the opposite." I nodded. "I know. We'll manage," I said. - The Girl With No Shadow, Joanne Harris Theobroma cacao flower From the small window at the foot of our futon I catch blurring shapes. My glasses are on the table. Once they're on my face I see the dust rise from the horse ring at the other end of the campground. Horses. Horses running without riders. Horses running free. We've been living on this small town campground, part of the fairground, for more than a year. We've seen the cycle of comings and goings of people and vehicles, events and activity; and the lock-down brought on by the pandemic has shif...
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