Yesterday I sent up words while cycling on the first dry pavement of the season. After an evening of night riding in the Spring fog, of late night spaghetti making, of cartoon watching, of quality time spent in an amongst one hundred blankets, I rose from my lone bed with arms outstretched. Saturday morning left to my own devices. I opted to ride to my hearts content, only stopping where J Alba felt the need to slow to stop. We had lunch for one at the bakery, picked up bread, picked up wine, dropped off film. It was a morning of picking up and dropping off in the company of myself. Before winding back around to these parts, I ran into a gaggle of Heinrichs women in front of Kawaii Crepe. What women. Kate's baby Izzy said her first word the other day: microwave. This kid is going to change the world somehow. I just feel it. I have so much faith in humanity when I see her. I don't really know how to explain it. If you have seen her, even a photograph (which hardly does it), then you know.
Dear Rags, I love you. Sometimes, there is nothing left to say. I am sorry you cried into your poached eggs. I have been there.
Dear Megs, quit writing. Go for a walk with your brother or your boyfriend's mother. Spend quality time with your new love, this amazing man. Touch his neck just so in the fog of the morning and send up some words of thanks for the people in your life who love you even when you don't deserve to be loved. Spring is for shedding, for dipping way down, for picking up, for putting away, for planting, for hollowing out, for turning over fallow parts of oneself, for starting again. Spring is the rebirth of feeling.
Dear wind, thank you for the Spring. Today my brother and I were talking about the fog over our lunch and he said that after an extended Spring fog, ninety days of rain are soon to be expected. If you will, please send the rain. I think we are all ready. The idea of wet hands and wet feet for two months in the bush is quite heartbreaking. Two months spent without one thing and two months spent with. God help us, where ever you may be.
|Shot at Elkhorne Resort; Manitoba, 2010.|
|Shot by M. Dixon the day that Winter broke; Winnipeg, 2010.|