blog description

Old women talk about old things: history, myth, magic and their
checkered pasts, about what changes and what does not.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Crone-drought


We had some good news here yesterday. A deep cool rain brought some hope of survival for parched ground and shriveled plants.
I was given a date for my surgery…
We've been praying for rain-relief after a long dry summer that has turned the fields to blowing dust, and the green lawns into harsh brown mats. The river is lower than it's been for years; revealing rocks rounded as old bones. The geese march across mysterious patterns set in concrete mud. Their hunger overrides their customary caution.
I was given a date for my surgery…
 The trees have been dropping leaves for weeks in a foretaste of the autumn losses. The Mountain Ash we planted a few years ago looks like it won't survive despite weekly watering. Even the cedars, deep rooted in maturity are looking rather haggard.
I was given a date for my surgery…
The days are getting shorter. Conversely the fearful restless nights are even longer. Morning pills are taken now in darkness while waiting for the slow easing of the gloom. With the dawn the thousand contentious sparrows that live in our hedges emerge to share their stories. Do they ever think of winter coming, stone cold ice and snow? … And after that, spring's resurrections?

3 comments:

  1. Wonderful meditation. Your descriptions are so vivid, but the repeated line makes this interruption that communicates, to me, that you are finding breaks from fear -- temporary breaks. I felt very moved. I just hope this is a narrator, or your surgery is not life-threatening. Thank you for sharing this; it is a deeply felt emotion.

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  2. A beautiful post, NJ. I hear the anxiety in the repetition--it's a tough time of year to be waiting for surgery, now as the night lengthens. I wish you more rain for the groundwater, and all the best with your hospital journey down to the twilight and back again. Let us know the date, and we'll light candles for you.
    (())

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  3. Thank you for your kind thoughts and encouraging words. The surgery date is October 29; serious enough that it requires 3 days in hospital, but not life-threatening. My hip joints seem to have aged more quickly than other body parts! By Christmas I hope to be walking again... and by spring I'll be able to reach my favorite spot where the river bends round the giant willows.

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