weekend encounters, treasures

[asakiyume]

I had a lovely time with sartorias this past weekend, a consequence of which is that I haven't been online much at all, and may only slowly catch up with people's entries.

sartorias brought me cactus candy--and cactus honey--and cactus marmalade! All delicious. I AM HAPPY TO EAT CACTUS!

And she taught me some yoga, and it was so right and good, it made me cry a little.


When I took her to the bus, I ran into an acquaintance I hadn't seen in a long time, someone I'd hung around with on the sidelines of kiddie soccer games and bumped into when we picked up kids from daycare. She'd fallen on hard, hard times, but was pulling out of them now.

"You were always nice to me, so when I saw you here, I wanted to say hi," she said, and only after the fact was I able to put into words what I was feeling, which was No, no, no. I just liked you. I liked you, is all. You were fun to talk to.

Being nice to someone is something you are when you don't want to interact with them, when it's trying in some way. But her, I just enjoyed her company.

I hope things continue to get better.



I walked through the woods to the center of town, and on my way I ran into a high school aged boy and girl walking the other direction though the woods. He had curling red-brown hair; she had straight blondish hair with pink at the tips. We were all somewhat surprised to meet each other--it's not that you never meet anyone on the trails, but just that it's rare--but they both smiled and said hi, and I did too. Further on in my walk, when I was on roads instead of trails, I picked up two small horse chestnuts (so shiny, they seem wet), and then two more, even larger, and I moved them in orbit around each other as if they were worry beads until I got where I was going.

On my way back, the boy and the girl were still in the woods--they were sitting on the bridge that the snowmobile association put over the tiny stream, legs dangling over the edge, talking.

"Hello again," I said, and they said hi too, and then, since I had four horse chestnuts, I suddenly thought to give them each one. "Just don't eat them," I said.

"But I thought they were edible," the boy said.

"Regular chestnuts are--the ones with the little beards on their chins, like you can get from the chestnut grove down there" (and I pointed to across the railroad tracks and down, where there's a tiny chestnut grove) "but not these ones."

"But the squirrels eat them," the boy said.

"Yeah, but animals eat poison ivy," I began, and before I could get to the "but we can't" part, he said, "Yeah, that's true--my goat eats poison ivy."

"Yeah, that's a great thing about goats; they'll keep down poison ivy," I agreed.

And we talked some more, and then I went on my way, and it was good, very good.

It was sunset by then--the sky had been the brightest gold, and then pink, and when I was coming near my house, the moon was big and almost full in the early evening sky.

Some treasures: in the pocket of my sweater are silvery mica and white marble from my walk in Holland Glen, back on Saturday. And on the dashboard of the car is a milkweed pod, spilling milkweed seeds--ballet dancers in long white skirts, like in Fantasia--a Swan Lake corps de ballet. More anon. Work calls--not to mention everyone's blogs! I'll get there, friends.

Comments

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

I wish so too--SO BAD! It would have been awesome. You would have loved my dad, and I would have loved to sit around munching muffins with cactus honey and hearing you tell stories about LA and about writing.


One day!