Who what when where why

What have the last months been? Where? Here’s a new place in time, let’s earmark this page by leaving a few traces. And let those months in a row turn into the moths of these summer nights. It’s okay to let time pass. It’s okay to let things shift under the surface and gradually feel out the new formation. Tectonic plates shift, and things shift for us too.

Is it a news update I want to give? Or is it something outside of the who what when where why?

Something secret and small. Something I can give to you like a secret. Do the time and the place always matter? What is there besides the time and the place? People’s postures, elbows resting on tables, clues in the movements of hands. I read that a clue originally meant a ball of twine, something you could unravel.

There was an old house and a new house, there was a warm lake, there were the lost and found wallet and car keys. Sauce around the mouth and bowl after bowl of strawberries. The carrying in and out of suitcases. Muddy sleep on planes. Boats passing with Swedish flags and red houses with white trim. Fairytale forests and soft fields. The lupines and irises which came and went. The flutterings of someone new in my belly, at unexpected times. A little one growing, becoming, developing a presence and a belonging to us.

It clouds over, the children who were running and yelling have gone inside. There are bees inside and out. We’re cranky, we’re laughing, we’re looking at books.

I read that whales dream. I read that plants, like people, run fevers when they’re sick. And the chamois, a goat like mountain antelope, can balance on a point of rock the size of a quarter.