I awoke at 7 o’clock or so to quiet. So much more restful than waking to the sounds of the Scampers, wanting to get out “Now, please! A welcome change of context for the morning’s light.
At the end of yesterday’s last visit into the back yard to play with the Scampers, as opposed to just letting them outside on their own to inspect the perimeter for foreign aromas, I happened to see a Monarch butterfly (or, perhaps, a Viceroy) settle briefly on a cotoneaster branch to my left. I had time to take three photographs before it continued on. Shooting into the sun, the pictures were close to silhouettes.
Making a negative image of the best of the photographs, increasing the contrast, and then changing it to black and white, I finally was able to see the patterns on the butterfly’s wings. Changing the picture, changing the context.
The way that I view relationships is changing. I find myself thinking of people in the context of who and where we were, rather than in the present, where, because of changes in circumstances, activities, lifestyles, it appears that the relationship exists only in the past. In the today, conversation is cursory. An embarrassment that, after a warm greeting of recognition, turns to incidentals and then flight. Sometimes with promises of “visiting” longer when there is time. Sometimes, more honestly, not.
My “now” has turned inward and my awareness has expanded beyond myself and my circle of now-distant friends. I do not know if it would be because their interests are not mine, nor mine, theirs. We do not take time to find out. When I think of them, people I once knew and loved in a different context, I remember them (and myself) as in that different world, in which we once lived.* That framework doesn’t exist anymore. With some folks, there is an automatic rebuilding as we take time to converse and discover the new and still existing ties that connect us with the past and to each other. Less often as the distance lengthens.
I am going to pour another cup of coffee for myself and set about making breakfast. We ate out, yesterday, and I’ve half a grilled salmon dinner waiting for me in the refrigerator. I think it would be good with scrambled eggs.
Hope that your day is proceeding as you would like!
“your smile, remembered”
what were those hours and minutes
when measured against decades
of a long life well and fully lived?
a smile, briefly known and always loved,
the joy of songs and sighs and laughter
faded now in the vacuum left behind,
short-lived breeze that warmed,
then cooled again
the absence of your touch…
your lips remembered always
as soft whispers on my neck
Copyright © 2016-08-21, by Lizl Bennefeld. Originally published at my QuiltedPoetry blog.