,,,and there are answers

I rode my bike through town and over to the backroad onto snake island -- Song begins along with the tune of the bike tires -- sometimes I think I'm past this -- think I've gotten to where dreaming isn't real. It's not so.  Rain came sweeping over, deep ash sky darkening into storm and crashing about in the wind -- birds calling out warnings to each other or exultations or bitchy weather reports -- it's a hard call with birds.

There were kids in the park, motorcycles lining main street, three singers with guitars on the corner singing "darkest hour" and "that old oaken bucket". I rode three miles and came home. I can not tell I've aged. I could guess me ten by the way I feel. Some days, I swear, I expect to come into the house and find I'm back in 1967 with Mom in the kitchen and the radio on and Delbert and John milling about and half a dozen of my nieces and nephews. It's this air that blinks me backward for quarter of a milosecond, not enough time to get a real memory. And you know the moment you try to recall what it is you're finding, it's gone. You can't own it.

We've been three days at home and I'm just now getting to where I'm getting things done. First two days, the list was endless. Now, today, I baked a cake, spun some romney and planted the basil. I sorted clothes, mopped the floors, and put away the herbs that were dry enough.

I'm getting past the melancholia that evening has been bringing. I'm feeling the hopefullness on the other side. Weeks now, this feeling's been chasing me and today, a glimmer of the why behind it came to me. This is that held breath before story hits, before the Muse steps out from behind the cloud. This is the center of the Dagaz rune and now things open and clouds break apart and the sun lights up the pearl of a moon.

I like this. I like this. Here is good. Now is good. My man playing music on his old guitar and the birds given last call in the tree outside this window and night settling in. For the first time in weeks, I don't feel as if I'm waiting for bad news to call.