Jannie
01-01-2008, 06:50 PM
January first, I'll start the new year with some exercise, it's cold, I dress warmly.
Getting out of the car, I grab my camera and turn toward the beach, others are looking. Three young women have stripped down to swimming suits and have taken the plunge, squealing as they go into the water, the audience sucks in it's breath. Those of us on shore cannot imagine what they must be thinking.
I walk closer, "so how do you feel now" one girl to another and it all comes back-my youth, January first, we recovered from most things faster then, New Years eve, lost loves, new careers, no one understanding, it seemed so complicated but it was easier back then; only experience can teach me that.
Over on the grass back of the beach is an old man, bundled against the cold and trying to raise a kite, a beautiful kite which his wife made, he told me that.
To the side was a covering against the grey skies but being the Northwest it might as well have been rain because the wind wasn't moving and the kite just sat there all-ready-like on the grass. It was the annual outing of the Washington Kite Association or something like that and a bunch of people huddled under the cover around cups of coffee but unlikely to attract new members without kites in the air.
Two little boys on minature bicycles sped past yelling "mom watch this" as they plowed through a puddle and an old man watching intently tried to get out of their way.
Following the tip of his cane he struggled forward, his right arm hung slack at his side, I said a secret prayer for his healing, this wasn't the part about golden years he had hoped for but he's out here, still going, he tried to answer my hello but it was so hard for him that I wished I had only said it silently and smiled.
Barefoot children running in the wet sand, throwing bread at seagulls, two volleyball games, one player in shorts, three bonfires going already as others started picnics. I wrapped my scarf more tightly around my neck, pulled up my lens and started taking pictures of the gulls, wishing I'd put the extender on the lens like yesterday.
I walked on, the water in the harbor slack as a boat went by making the floating dock sections move back and forth banging in their joints as if talking to me in some private clacking language. I've walked here for decades and never heard that until today.
I own a white car, a Mitsubishi 4 door sedan, it looks like 25% of the other cars in any parking lot. My daughter gave me a purple rubber ducky to put on the dashboard to identify the car more easily and I gladly left the harbor, anticipating lunch.
Back at my apartment I set the groceries down and looked over at my knife block, I'd get to choose one knife plus a paring knife-which would it be. It's like a game, my meals alone are usually simple and the fun is mostly in the preparation and today it was my 180mm Asai Gyuto and a Mac SB-105 bread/slicer instead of the parer. I find it so odd that people refer to that knife by it's number and even odder that I rememberd it and repeated it here.
I start to download the photos into my computer and then allowed myself to eat, first things first.
I could have stayed home, it's warm here but I'm off again soon, a friend invited me to dinner, so no playing at the cutting board tonight but that's okay. Life gets a little closer to reality this week, I start back to work and I'll feel once again like a productive person.
One step in front of the other, otherwise just another morning on the first of January, but it feels more like a new beginning. Ya'all have the bestest year-hokay?:)
Getting out of the car, I grab my camera and turn toward the beach, others are looking. Three young women have stripped down to swimming suits and have taken the plunge, squealing as they go into the water, the audience sucks in it's breath. Those of us on shore cannot imagine what they must be thinking.
I walk closer, "so how do you feel now" one girl to another and it all comes back-my youth, January first, we recovered from most things faster then, New Years eve, lost loves, new careers, no one understanding, it seemed so complicated but it was easier back then; only experience can teach me that.
Over on the grass back of the beach is an old man, bundled against the cold and trying to raise a kite, a beautiful kite which his wife made, he told me that.
To the side was a covering against the grey skies but being the Northwest it might as well have been rain because the wind wasn't moving and the kite just sat there all-ready-like on the grass. It was the annual outing of the Washington Kite Association or something like that and a bunch of people huddled under the cover around cups of coffee but unlikely to attract new members without kites in the air.
Two little boys on minature bicycles sped past yelling "mom watch this" as they plowed through a puddle and an old man watching intently tried to get out of their way.
Following the tip of his cane he struggled forward, his right arm hung slack at his side, I said a secret prayer for his healing, this wasn't the part about golden years he had hoped for but he's out here, still going, he tried to answer my hello but it was so hard for him that I wished I had only said it silently and smiled.
Barefoot children running in the wet sand, throwing bread at seagulls, two volleyball games, one player in shorts, three bonfires going already as others started picnics. I wrapped my scarf more tightly around my neck, pulled up my lens and started taking pictures of the gulls, wishing I'd put the extender on the lens like yesterday.
I walked on, the water in the harbor slack as a boat went by making the floating dock sections move back and forth banging in their joints as if talking to me in some private clacking language. I've walked here for decades and never heard that until today.
I own a white car, a Mitsubishi 4 door sedan, it looks like 25% of the other cars in any parking lot. My daughter gave me a purple rubber ducky to put on the dashboard to identify the car more easily and I gladly left the harbor, anticipating lunch.
Back at my apartment I set the groceries down and looked over at my knife block, I'd get to choose one knife plus a paring knife-which would it be. It's like a game, my meals alone are usually simple and the fun is mostly in the preparation and today it was my 180mm Asai Gyuto and a Mac SB-105 bread/slicer instead of the parer. I find it so odd that people refer to that knife by it's number and even odder that I rememberd it and repeated it here.
I start to download the photos into my computer and then allowed myself to eat, first things first.
I could have stayed home, it's warm here but I'm off again soon, a friend invited me to dinner, so no playing at the cutting board tonight but that's okay. Life gets a little closer to reality this week, I start back to work and I'll feel once again like a productive person.
One step in front of the other, otherwise just another morning on the first of January, but it feels more like a new beginning. Ya'all have the bestest year-hokay?:)