Dawning on Me

206When’s the last time you were up at dawn?

Well, this morning: daily dawns came along with grief, as part of the package deal.

As soon as my husband was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, I lost my capacity to eat, sleep, and otherwise function . . . until the day I realized I had to amass some strength for his sake, and our children’s.  But that’s another story (one I told not long ago on the Moth Mainstage in Boston).

I used to be inside at dawn and miss the whole thing.  I was either sleeping or scurrying around the house, doing tasks, preparing myself and the children and dogs to set about the day–though, in the dogs’ case, they don’t really require that much preparation.  Their duties are minimal, but important in their way.

Then, utterly unable to sleep while Jim was sick, I would wander outside with the beagles and see immense blankets of color above the pond where Jim would take in his last outdoor view of an orange perigee moon.

So even when I began recovering strength, I thought it worth keeping hold of the dawns.

Dawn at Jim’s Pond


Orange Suns and Moons

Venus Transiting the Sun, Portland, Oregon
(c) June 2012 Joe Chipman

I’ve touched upon deep greens and blues, swaths of sepia, my proclivity toward seeing things in black and white, and some of the unintended side-effects of my fondness for bright red.

Today, thanks to a gift from one of my daughters, I am clad in the brightest of orange–an extremely high-visibility school color.

I have concluded it is nearly impossible to be dour for long while wearing neon orange.

My pal Dakota in hunter orange today

Continue reading “Orange Suns and Moons”

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