The air is alive, its pulse palpable. A cloak of orange and mist. Spanish moss rocks back and forth like a soft lullaby. I close my eyes and go right back to my childhood neighbor's grass and magnolia shade, my dolls sitting upright, acorns on dainty flowered plates, birdsong. A big blue Mercedes Benz in their driveway that casts my shadow back to me. I glance back to our yard and lie down on my back in the thick grass and rest my gaze on impossibly tall palm trees, swaying like they just hit the bottle.
I did this often. Took my dolls to my neighbor's yard to rest in the quiet shade. I can see now how even as a young child I needed still moments. I am a Gemini. I love family and friends and gathering. Equally, I need my own peace. Like right now, my family is downstairs breathing life and sound into this Sunday morning and I retreat upstairs to my desk with my camera and fresh portraits to upload, incense evoking, music playing, window open. I am alone here and it is a beautiful thing. In time, I will go back downstairs or the little's will make their way to me and buzz their way right back into my time. And that, too, is something of unfathomable beauty.
This morning I opened my eyes and looked up. I prayed. And then for some reason a memory from my wedding day came to mind. I thought about Eric leading his mom to the dance floor, Georgia played. And for some reason that memory made me think of my orange, misty, childhood memories.
The prayer today - that I can always find it. The tree and the shade.
