Slippery salmon-pools of joy in my heart.

Month of Purification and Renewal (POWAMUYA / Hopi)

Yesterday was a sudden-grief day which turned into a day of purge and liberation. Systole / diastole. Literally blood, sweat, and tears. When I went to the ocean to let it out, just where I sat I looked up to see a big family of dolphins playing in the waves. They moved slow and kept my crying company.


This morning I dreamed of a story-place, mountainy green with deep pools of old, cold water. Driving inland to work from my coastal morning, I was appalled at how green the hills are! When are they ever this green?

The floral delivery took me up into Orange Hills.

No Snow in Trails Moon (Onon u’la’ukwamme / Zuni)

Of course I couldn’t bring myself to drive back down the mountain. Not surrounded by so much green! So I drove up the mountain, put gas in the tank, got a nice hot bev, rolled up a spliff, and pulled out as it started to seriously rain.


Mmm. Roll down the windows, and entertain the possibility that the sound of your wheels in the rain on the road is your voice.


Orange County, you been keeping secrets from me, because I didn’t know you could do this kinda green. Up outside of the basin there are ranges and ranges of tender, fleshy, virgin green, radiant against the gray. I oriented, past Silverado, past Modjeska, back again. The rain came in waves, like yesterday’s big surge. I put down the windows to have nothing but wind and water between me and that green.

Then it was time to go down the mountain. But look at those other green hills over east! And there’s a rainbow! Quick right — and I can see where the rainbow touches the hills, ahead. The road snakes through little valleys towards it. The angle is just right so that as I drive, I round a bend and now the rainbow ends just there, on the highway. Now it ends on the hood of my car. Now I move through it! And now it’s gone, behind me. I drive through the next bend, struck with the import of having moved through a rainbow. And as I feel full of its meaning, there’s one sudden lightning flash, shocking and brilliant.

The only lightning of the storm. Then I realized I’d gotten on a toll road, sans cash. That’ll cost me a long bureaucratic phone call. Then onto the 91 West to cruise through the downpour and traffic back into the sprawl. Full of light, doubly clean from yesterday’s saltwater (ocean, tears, bath) and today’s rainbow lightning extravaganza. Carrying that green back with me.

Makes Branches Fall In Pieces Moon (Piaôdagos / Abenaki)

Also, at the beach, unprecedented amounts of driftwood.












coyote moon (Isha-mea’ / Central Shoshoni)


1542, “epic poem,” from M.Fr. rhapsodie, from L. rhapsōdia, section of an epic poem, from Gk. rhapsōidiā “verse composition,” from rhapsodios “reciter of epic poems,” from rhapsōidein, to recite poems, from rhaptein “to stitch” (see wrap) + aoidē, ōidē, song.


~ by Arrrow Marie on February 28, 2010.

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