Location: St. Vincent & Grenadines

You were driving home in the dark on one glass-slippered heel, window sliced open and bathing in the snowliquor of the night air. We heard you singing, and couldn't bear to wake you.

06 October 2006

To throw Thoreau, to rearrange.

I turned 32 in Lyell Canyon, out on a dusty footpath with a 40-pound pack and nine rambunctious teenagers. They farted a lot and didn't listen very well, but they were joyful. We made camp on a huge tilted shelf of granite. The boys slept out under the stars; like the girls, I opted for the cover of a floorless tent as protection from wind and frost. It was intensely cold; once the sun went down, which it did early, there was nothing to do but dive into a sleeping bag with six layers of clothing and a woolen hat with earflaps, and sit tight until morning. Whereupon we'd all rise, reluctantly, and jog in place to make our numb toes sting while we waited for the teawater to boil. Bracing, all this fresh discomfort.

Tomorrow is our birthday party, Marla's and mine. Friends will gather and there will be tasty food and alcohol and conversation, music, games. Genevieve is two plus, a singing dancing storytelling dervish of delight and pique. Marla is the apple concerto butterknife swanpoem of my life and dreams. I am a teacher, and all kinds of other strangeness. There are new wrinkles at the corners of my eyes when I smile.


Anonymous gina & dave said...

Happy Birthday Yo and Mar :-)

4:43 PM  

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