I’ve written those (first) two words into a poem—abandoned and reworked and abandoned and rediscovered and (you get the idea)—since I was sixteen. They have new meaning for me every time I write them.
Tonight, my newly-formed guitar string finger calluses tap-tap-tapped on the keyboard, as I began to love on my little-novel-that-could again. I wrote: Momentarily awakened in the moonless night . . .
And on cue, Shortcake woke up, calling to me from the bed. “Mommy?” I ran to her, snuggled up and kissed her cheek. “Mommy’s here,” I whispered. Sleepily, she put her arm on mine, and said, smiling, “Oh. There y’are.”
Then, Dimples woke up, febrile and coughing, with a sore ear. After ibuprofen and forehead kisses, he smiled and said, “Mom? My number one favorite thing is drawing.”
I wrote all of the above last night, and returned to Dimples’ side, eventually falling asleep with my ass on his floor and my head on his bed. And so I don’t actually know where I was going with this train of thought. Which reminds me. This weekend, traveling home from a blissful day alone on a snowy beach, I got lost in the boonies of Wisconsin. I ended up on a windy, hilly road in a thick forest, and completely lost my sense of direction. It was perfect. I was so far gone, and did not want to be found. Except that I really had to pee. Which reminds me. I’ve got to tell you about our lost-backpacking-in-a-blizzard-spring-break-trip sometime. Which reminds me. Of this, which I’ve posted before, maybe last spring:
![[img024.jpg]](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y6xhGdKb01A/SUgR71OMR7I/AAAAAAAAByY/whZ522OarZA/s1600/img024.jpg)
tri-x in holga, dusty neg scan, Mowgli
hope your young guy feels better soon, and you get better than propped up rest.
otherwise, i love getting lost when it leads to find self. but if i i have to be someplace, i am filled with anxiety looking for street signs, et al…but in the moment you describe above…it’s bliss when the world stops you to take notice, eh?
” oh there y’are” <3 <3
Beautiful photo and word pictures–blissful day alone on a snowy beach and, “Oh, there y’are.” See, you weren’t lost…
Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.
Henry David Thoreau
lovely words and picture.
momentarily awakened is just perfect
love these journeys you take, and share.
can i borrow this post title as my life slogan?
Thought of you a few days ago when I found a perfect birds nest in the snow and reached for my camera to shoot it first. I remembered the images you captured of Katie holding her birds nest and how special that pictures is to me. Just when I thought I couldn’t find the light anymore in my heart, God placed it right in front of me to find on the sidewalk one afternoon waiting, just waiting for me to find in the snow. I’m so happy you are still taking beautiful pictures. Take your time, your finding something far more important while you’re away. I’m jealous.