The land and sky of my summer home are inhabited by eagles. They gift me with feathers and the occasional fish. In exchange I watch over their wayward offspring, still learning to fly. These great birds hold ancestral wisdom for me and I celebrate their sacred being.
They inhabit my work and my wild imaginings. As does the moon, architecture and ancient trees. I am inspired to be fierce and unafraid, even in difficult times. To keep doing the work that needs doing, with decency, grace and courage.
A Wing & A Prayer
Sojourn:
“to stay for a time in a place”
Sweet long days. Light and warmth. Old bones soaking up desert heat. As we make ready for the rituals of summer in some other place. Soon I will smell of wood smoke and pine. Bundled up in care worn clothes. My hair gone wild.
Eagles overhead and the boat house awaiting. Finding my way back to painting, sculpting, writing. I understand now, what stirs in the breast of birds. The instinctive knowing to head North. The ancestral urging. Homeward. A snowbird surrender.
No one ever said you only get one great love. And no one ever said you only get one home to love. Let us delight in the time and place and people where we be. Let us make beauty. Trusting that come winter, Tucson will call us back with the same sweet yearning, for home.
