bits of sunshine

where the ancient and the modern meet

i live here on the edge of history
where the ancient and the modern meet and intertwine,
where i find the very, very old
mixed with the old
and i come and go from my modern home 
and walk with my rubber boots
and take pictures with my iphone 
pictures of timeless wonders

the river banks are amazing 
cut out of the earth 
changing with the rising or the receding of the waters 
changing with the passage of animals: deer, cattle, horses.
sand and rock, willow and cockleburr, deposits and erosions -
the banks and bars are always changing 
there is a newly turned ground to see on every walk i take

certain rocks catch my eye and i just can't pass them by 
i bend and sift and look
there are pieces i pick up and turn in my hands
some i hold onto, others i drop back to the ground or into the river 
i marvel 
i am holding history, turning history
is this the tiniest taste of what the Creator feels
when he holds planet or star or human soul in his hand
and traces the story? 

i walk, looking carefully at the ground 
then remind myself to look at trees and sky 
so much beauty in every direction 

i find things crafted and left behind by humans
a thick chunk of milk-white glass and a shard of a ceramic dish 
a hundred and fifty years ago there was a woman
her skin sun-warmed after hauling water from the river
who made meals for her family using the dishes 
and left these remnants 

i think about the people whose territory and home this used to be,
before the white settlers moved to the banks of the mniose
i pick up a rock that has a smooth center and chipped edges,
maybe a tool in progress,
maybe held by another woman with sun-warmed skin,
i wrap my hand around this stone, rub the smooth hollow with my thumb,
and marvel at how this rock fits into the curve of my fingers 

for years and years, hundreds and thousands of years
people have walked and hunted and slept and cooked and loved and worshipped here 
on the banks of the river, mniose, the little missouri

and alongside the early people and even before the people, the creatures

i have a partially fossilized astragalus bone from a bison 
it is at least a few hundred years old 
bison, elk, bear, wolves, all lived alongside of, drank from the river 
before these, there were giant bison and giant wolves,
three-horned rhinoceros, tyrannosaurus rex, and other legendary creatures
living their wild lives under the stretched-out skies

and before the giants, sea creatures 
i find fossilized squid and ammonites, ancient creatures,
i think about the sea that washed over and settled in this land,
waters dark and deep over the sea bed,
fantastic creatures, fathomless creatures 
swimming here 
when the whole interior of the north american continent
was a salt water sea

oh to have a true timeline, a true picture of what i find all tumbled together 

this earth does not feel young 
it feels ancient 
there are uncountable stories jumbled together in this river bed,
ages and ages worth of stories 

i firmly believe that God created everything here 
in ages past, 
fathomless ages past 
and am awed by him, by his extraordinary greatness

i think about the history that i learned as a child 
i think about the history that i am learning as an adult 
i think about the history that i hold in my own hands
as i stand and look at the muddy banks carved out
by the little missouri, by mniose, by waters too old to be named by humans,
waters known and named by God,
in paths and sea beds
carved out by the hand of God the Creator 

and i want to know more
to understand more

i want to know about the people who lived here long, long before 
i don't want people to be forgotten 

i don't want the history i learn and teach to my children
to be white and short,
easy and concise,
all laid out in neat rows of letters on a white page

i want the history that i learn and teach to my children
to be colorful and long, 
full of wonder and mystery, hardship and awe,
winding and cutting and jumbling through the land,
through our hands,
and stretching in our souls

history found and learned in seeking to know the heart of the Creator,
found in really seeing people,
in learning stories,
in looking into both majesty and brokenness,
in stepping into the realness and rawness of life
here on this planet
our planet

history in this particular place on our planet
beside the little missouri
beside mniose
in the bed of the inland sea
where so many stories have unfolded
and beg to be found and retold

e + chaco under grey skies

 

saturday night 
dark, windy and wild outside 
rain, like pebbles against the windows 
kids and our neighbor playing gmes and listening to music 
chaco chewing a rawhide 
ben in his garage talking on the phone 
me at the oak table in the middle of it all
with a cup of ginger lemon tea 
cozy 

we spent most of the day at a football jamoboree,
watching isaac and his teammates play
mostly in the sunshine 

we drove home back into the grey, wild sky 

i put on wool socks and a wool hat, my rain pants, jacket, and boots 
and chaco and i went for a wander 
we walked into the wind 
chaco did his hunting sweeps 
i breathed wild, wet air  while raindrops pelted my cheeks and rain gear 

chaco crested a hill before me and froze 
nose to the wind, tail straight out 
i joined him on the hilltop and watched four deer lift white tails 
i told chaco to stick by me 
we watched the deer bound off into the twilight 
chaco and i turned the other way and made our way through sage and over strewn cottonwood leaves 
down to the river 

i looked for belamnites and baculites like i always do 
chaco ran in and out of the river
and even plunged in for a full-blown swim 
i snapped some pictures 
and found two baculite remnants and one belamnite section {buffalo stone}   

we turned home and walked quickly 
pushed by wind and darkness and flying raindrops

into the warmth of home and supper and people and tea

gold to give away

today was heavy and grey and cold 
{the kind of cold that chills my bones and makes my fingers ache}

it seemed like the right kind of day to look back at pictures
from a day that was warm 
{the kind of warm that soaks into my bones} 
and to read a poem by mary oliver :: goldenrod
{that could be about sunflowers and sage that i walked through in the warm sunshine}

on roadsides,
    in the fall fields,
        in rumpy bunches,
            saffron and orange and pale gold,

in little towers,
    soft as mash,
        sneeze-bringers and seed-bearers,
            full of bees and yellow beads and perfect flowerlets 

and orange butterflies. 
    i don't suppose much notice comes of it, except for honey,
        and how it heartens the heart with its 

blank blaze. 
    i don't suppose anything loves it except, perhaps,
        the rocky voids
            filled by its dumb dazzle. 

for myself,
    i was just passing by, when the wind flared
        and the blossoms rustled,
            and the glittering pandemonium

leaned on me. 
    i was just minding my own business
        when i found myself on their straw hillsides,
            citron and butter-colored,

and was happy, and why not? 
    are not the difficult labors of our lives
        full of dark hours?
            and what has consciousness come to anyway, so far,

that is better than these light-filled bodies?
    all day
        on their airy backbones
            they toss in the wind,

they bend as though it was natural and godly to bend,
    they rise in a stiff sweetness,
        in the pure peace of giving
            one's gold away.

 

it seemed like the right kind of day to count gratitudes ::
sunflowers {even in pictures}
warm days {remembered}
a big field to go walking in {on any given day}
the smell of sage {freshly broken, or in the vase on my desk}
a savior who knows what it is like to be rejected by some {and loved by others}
friends who love my kids
people who are kind
coffee {a new roast, freshly brewed}
hot tea {for the drive home}
my husband
my daughter
my son
lunch at home with ben {earlier today}
our very comfortable home
happy mail {some for maddie, some for me, some for ben, and some for isaac}
mercy and grace {freely given}
that there will be a day with no more pain
light
peace
gold {in pictures and in words} to give away

first day of school {6th and 7th grade}

 {squinting into the sun ~ not excited that i am taking pictures}

 {and not squinting ~ excited to be heading off to school, to a new experience - junior high!}

in all the years that these two have been doing school and going to school, i have never taken a "first day of school picture" . . . i'm not sure why not.  except that i rarely do things in the conventional way.  i have my own little quirks and ways and tickings, i guess. 

but, this is the first year they are going off to junior high.  so, i thought that maybe i should document these next few years of first days.  {it will be fun to see which year finds isaac taller than maddie . . . any guesses? he's eleven and a half and maddie is just about thirteen . . .  and now i'm thinking that i have to get out a photo album and see what ages my next brother and i were when he caught up to me . . . hmmmm.}

after i took these pictures, i drove them into school, and as i was driving home, i dictated a journal entry ::

i don't know why today seems so big.  we are starting a new chapter, that's for sure.  the kids are in sixth and seventh grade.  and i am thirty-six.  ben will be thirty-seven in two months.  is that really where we're at?  it's good.  it just feels very different somehow. 

at school today, miss b was by the door to greet all the kids ~ a friendly and familiar face.  i hope their day is just super awesome.  and i'm sure it will be.  they're such sweet kids.  i love it that when i asked if i could walk in with them to drop something in the office, or if i should wait till they were well inside before i headed in, isaac said, "of course you can walk in with us, mom.  we aren't kids who are embarrassed of our parents.  we have awesome parents, and our friends who matter know that you're awesome."  

through all of this craziness that has been my life, that has been our life together, sometimes i don't know what i've done right and how they've turned out (so far) the way they have.  they are wonderful and fabulous and they're going to do such awesome things. 

yet when i think about it, i do know how they are wonderful.  they "are God’s masterpiece. He has created [them] anew in Christ Jesus, so [they] can do the good things He planned for [them] long ago." {ephesians 2:10 nlt}

i don't know why i'm feeling so nostalgic this year.  is that the right word? or melancholy (deeply, quietly thoughtful).  this all just feels really big and important. 

i thought i would write this out and finish my thoughts as a blog post that evening. i did post these pictures on facebook and instagram on that first day of school, but here i am, a week and a half later on my blog. 

because when they got home, isaac was worn out.  exhausted.  and feeling pretty defeated.  maddie had a great day!  isaac didn't. 

and i sat down with him to look at his homework and to write notes to couple of his teachers.  and i didn't know what i would write here.  so i didn't write.

each day since school started i have done one or more of the following: i have reread isaac's IEP + recommended accommodations, written notes, made phone calls, stopped in to the school, listened to isaac, helped with homework, thought through scenarios and conversations, prayed a lot, talked this out with my God and my husband and a few good friends, and encouraged my boy to be tough, to have patience while we sort this all out.

{i am working on a post about (some of) my experience parenting a child with special needs.}

each day has gotten a little better for isaac. 

each day has gone so well for maddie.

they are working hard, putting heart and mind and creativity into their school work, for themselves and for their teachers.  both kids really like their teachers, and i am so grateful for these teachers (maddie and isaac have all the same ones!).  what a wonderful team of people teaching these junior high kiddos!   

isaac is playing football.  maddie is playing volleyball.  so they have practice after school four days a week.  they are working hard, learning their games, putting heart and mind and muscle into a team.  this is good, too!

they come home hungry and tired.  but they play outside {rollerblade and scooter, walk with chaco and i, jump on the trampoline}, eat huge suppers, and get their homework done before falling into bed and sleeping deeply. 

and this to me seems like a good sort of life.  learning, working, creating, exercising, enjoying friends, breathing the wild fresh air, and sleeping soundly.  doing the good things.

.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ... ... ..

go gently, be wonderful, and do the good things, my friends.
love, e