this weekend

[Guest guest]

This past Saturday I drove down much of the length of the Oregon

coast to carry some of my work to a gallery in Bandon.

Part of my reason for driving rather than mailing was that the

owner of ths particular gallery is a friend and fellow journeyer

of many years' standing, but whom I haven't visited for amny months.

AS I drove I was grumbling a bit in my heart: there is a sheepdog

part of me who wishes all those I love lived close enough to me

that I could check in and connect with them, hear their journeys,

walk beside them, on a regular basis.

As I was grumbling, I came a round a curve of Heceta Head. I had been

driving through dripping mist and grey. I emerged into fingers of

sunlight stretching through swordfern and balsam fir to bless my

eyes. I realized that I am in the hearts of those who love me

even as all I love are in my heart at all times whether or not I

think of them.

The highway curved further, and the road emerged high up a cliff face

with ocean tumulting as far as I could see on my right. And I knew

that I am always in the heart of everything, and everything is always

in my heart, whether or not I remember that.

Now I am home again, reading email, doing laundry, trying to get a

fire started in the woodstove, thinking about making owls and

what to feed the family this week.(I keep coming back to seaweed

and tofu, which I suspect they would not appreciate)

 

I love you. You are in my heart.

 

Blythe

[Guest guest]

>I love you. You are in my heart.

>

>Blythe

 

 

You are in mine also, Blythe.

 

Am