from my journal, 29 July, after visiting the Magnolia Cliffs

I wish to create, to write a poem, or something somehow worthwhile. I want to dive into a cool ocean, and walk along the bottom, staring up at the wave-play above my head, spreading my arms wide to feel as much water as I can, hair drifting with the current. I want to lay in the sun, alone on a wide rock, with nothing but sky, sea, hills and trees to see anywhere, and nothing but birds, squirrels, or bugs to keep me company. I want to run with the wind, so fast that the wind feels like still air, until my legs quiver and my lungs burn, and continue until I collapse on grass and stare at the clouds shifting through the sky. I want to fly through the air, swooping and calling like a white-winged bird, floating on thermal currents, diving and pulling up, climbing until my wings melt, and I fall to join Icarus in the cool wetness.

I perch, precarious, on the edge of the sea,
rocks behind and below,
blinding blue stretching before.

I stare, deep into the froth and turmoil
as two waves are entwined
one charging in, the other retreating.

The skin on my feet is not too cold
to feel the twists in the water
as it buries them, and the rock, hiding

the last shred of my connection to land.
And I am gone. The rocks are gone.
I shoot straight up, a rocket to a cloud,

a sudden explosion, a startled flock of birds,
a shimmering translucent body
twisting with sudden newfound joy and energy.

My bright wings burst forth - why have
they been hiding? - and the wind
rushes by, carrying me swiftly away

from the land, the ocean-covered rock,
from the unambiguous division
of earth and sea, body and spirit,

life and death. Further and further
my wings take me. And
even though my ghostlike, now useless feet,

seem to remember the passion of
sand in my toes, solid bedrock,
knowledge and human connections,

the movement of cool air around my skin,
the ecstasy of flight, of freedom,
is stronger, and my face remains towards the horizon.

cue: growl

That last couple days have been, in a word, wild. Thursday evening was volleyball at the park, which, after disturbance by lightning, hair standing on end, and burying people in the sand, turned into watching the Olympics at someone's house until rather late. Friday night was a gathering - aka party - at another person's house, to which I originally planned to go, but I got a phone call Thursday afternoon asking if I wanted to go to the Red Sox game. Of course! So Friday afternoon, my friend and I braved public transportation and the threat of grey skies to travel to Fenway, where we wandered, then sat for a couple hours, as the announcers announced several delays due to showers in the area. And yes, it rained, but we were just under the overhang and had bright yellow ponchos, and stayed relatively dry. But then, after all our patience, they postponed the game due to the threat of lightning. It will be made up on September 13th. So after all that, the game never started. We joined the moist throngs pushing back to the T, and made it to North Station just barely after a train left, and had to wait another hour, in North Station, for the next train. When we got back to Beverly, I realized we didn't have a key to the house, so we stopped by the party to pick up the key (after a disappointment like a non-game, who wants to party?), got a movie, and sat and stared at the screen for a couple hours before going to bed.

At least now I've been to Fenway. And at least, at this point, I have nothing scheduled for September 13th. Someday, I will go to a Red Sox game. But for now, it was a long afternoon and evening, and I want to read but my eyes want to shut, and I have barely one week left of vacation. Ack.

nearing the end

In two weeks, classes begin once more. My last year of undergraduate study it will be. A strange thought, this. I think I'm ready, though. It will be good to have a regular schedule, and definite ways to fill my days.

Just Sunday we finished moving to a new place. My roommate signed a one-year lease, so she'll stay during the school year, but I get to move - again - back to campus - in just under two weeks. I'm trying to balance leaving things packed and having enough out to feel like I'm not in transition.

Despite the recent rain, and its tendency to lightning and pour right when we want to play volleyball, things have being going well. There is still much I would like to do before school, and I, true to form, can think of many things I wish were different, but I have no reason to complain. In fact, certain aspects of life have been better than expected, and improving.

I'm going to go get some intentional alone time, something I haven't had enough of recently, and something I'm realizing is needed and healthy.