Friday, September 17, 2010

How to tell winter to f-off

Sunrise above the desert

Mark of a wild horse

Lost antler, Alvord playa

Red Ants on Arrowleaf-balsamroot

Here in the beautiful Pacific Northwest we are blessed with an incredibly lush natural landscape that sustains us and.....makes us go fucking nuts when it refuses to stop raining.

This summer was the wettest we've had in 17 years. We busted loose to the eastern "dry side" of the region near as much as possible, but we were right here at home for most of it. Many mornings were cloudy and dark with a thin, creepy marine layer hanging around until well past noon. On a "normal" year, our area gets an average of 222 overcast days. We tend to have fungus growing on the north sides of our bodies. We do strange things in order to simulate light and warmth and keep from losing our minds.

My tomatoes are still green. They fried up "raht nayce" the other night, though. My zucchini just blossomed. I was once a certified master gardener. I felt so useless against the weather as I watched my little garden flounder.

Last weekend we went back out to the promised land that is the Alvord Desert, seven hours away near the Nevada border. We floated in the milky way on a moonless night, listened to coyotes howling, soaked in the hot springs, played in the mud, watched the sun rise, spent long, quiet moments watching ants clambering around on stalks of arrowleaf balsamroot in the cool, bright morning, and dined like royals on hamburger helper after a long, hot day hiking across the desert. Soul food.

On the way out east I saw migrants working in the fields in farm country. They work so hard for so little. How many weekends do they get free? Seasons come and go and the soggy weather torments them, just like me, but they hardly get a break. We're lucky to have the luxury of escape. We're going back to the desert for Thanksgiving.

Yesterday, a little bummed by the next round of bad weather and with a sick kid at home I kind of slogged around in a funk until I found this photo from last winter. It made me smile from the inside out & is a reminder that those big old storm clouds ain't got nothing on us. Sometimes we are lucky and sometimes we make our own luck. Now, back to those naughty stories......somewhere far away, in a warm, tropical place where clothes haven't even been invented yet.....

Fuck Winter

A wish. Unreasoned, impassionate.
Ripples in fish pond.
Koi glides wide-eyed.
Raindrops fill pock-marked sky.
Fallen stars sink, becoming
luminous stones.
Solitary gaping mouth.
Loneliness is snow and ice,
is water-logged lungs and
breaking branches.
Fish swallows drowning moon whole.
Winter cannot keep us.

Photos & poem, Gina Marie, 2010


Craig Sorensen said...

Solitary gaping mouth.

Nice. Classic.

Winter can not keep you indeed.

BadAssKona said...

Twenty months of an amazing journey! It's about mud and water and wind and animal sex and sun and releasing the mind and heart and soul and body from the artificial boundaries that we live within.

Gina Marie said...

And thus, my mate, we are free.

Gina Marie said...

Hello Mr. Craig. I was looking at a vintage postcard of two stylized koi swimming. One had that mouth and I couldn't figure out how to describe it. Glad the words came out right, somehow.