The Ocean’s Soul

The mist lingered on top of the water for 15 minutes longer today.

He took another sip of coffee and rocked slowly in his chair on the front deck of the cottage they once coined their poets nest.

He thinks back to a time when they would comb the shoreline every Friday for debris released from the grip of the tides. He remembers this one day when she found a large black feather, a raven’s feather; it was weather-beaten but she thought she had found gold.  He remembers so clearly taking it from her soft hands and weaving it in the locks of her long dark hair.

“You’re my Pocahontas,” he said. As soon as the words escaped his mouth she started running. She ran and ran until she reached the end of the beach. He followed her, as he always did, and they sat dipping their toes in the ocean and talking about the future.

“You’ll always put feathers in my hair, won’t you darling? And paint my funny looking toes, and read me your beautiful words?”

“Yes,” he replied, “For you I bare my soul, just as surely as the ocean reaches yours.”

He remembers that long, bittersweet kiss they shared in that moment.

He looks around him and remembers the nights they lay underneath the scratchy plaid blanket, just over there beneath the picture window, searching for Ursa Minor in the sky.

He takes another sip of coffee.

He clutches the raven’s feather tightly in his hand.

“The mist lingered on top of the water for 15 minutes longer today my love,” he whispered, “I hope that you can feel it.”

M.

May 3: Rain

I’m back! Yes, I’m at home in St. Lewis for a little while. Or at least I hope it’s a little while (no offense, family, but I need a job!) I just graduated from the Journalism program at CNA’s Stephenville campus. It was a challenging couple of years but I’m pretty sure I came back a better person because of it. Through personal and professional drama, I am still here, kicking like an old Chev.

It’s raining here today. The hills are painted with fog and the rain looks cold enough to tear the skin off your bones. But I’m home, and nothing can wipe the smile off my heart. It would be nice for a little sun though, my brown car needs to be washed back to white and I’m not going out in this weather to do it.

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It’s been an odd couple of days since I got back. I have been thinking a lot about my grandfather, he passed away the 25th of this month, last year. I will never forget that day. I won’t go into detail.

I just wrote up his in Memoriam and sent it along to the Northern Pen at the request of my Aunt. I think it really reflects who he was. I miss him so much.

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My Dad painted my room in the last week before he came to Stephenville Crossing to help me pack to move back home. It’s a beautiful light blue and it’s truly a peaceful space. I think I needed that, ha ha. But the paint fumes are very strong in here and it’s giving me a sore throat = not so pleasant. Any advice about how to get rid of paint odor? Please note that my mother is allergic to strong scents so air freshener is a no go.

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Well as you can see not much has changed with me, I’m still a jumble of thoughts and sentences. I’m going to be blogging more frequently now that I’m back in a stable mindframe (don’t time me, it might go away soon lol).  Here’s some pictures!