|Hibiscus Orange in Our Front Yard|
Cello looked up at me, his eyes that other worldly blue, but still with intent. He walks very carefully next to me these days as I struggle with balance but he never deserts his unsteady friend of almost 16 years. That glance from small creature to old woman caught my heart. Such an old story, this rush of gratitude to another species who does not turn away, but today, Cello brought me to language. Everything around me of beauty, of kindness, of shared endeavor, of color and wind, is a word to my heart.
|Walking with Debolina and Oishik |
Friends, some I have known the whole time I have sojourned here like Beth and Pattie and Leslie and Louise and Daniel and others, new and deep, brought to me on the waves of La Professoressa's engagement with students, like Debolina and Oishik who must return to Calcutta very soon, deep new younger friends, like Maddee and Maddy, sitting with me, talking, living thoughts, my glimpses of the future. Michelle, like me, a traveler here, an old friend who too soon will return to her other home in the cobbled streets of Cambridge, coming and going, carrying intimacies. Maria and Maureen too soon to leave for the streets of London and the Welsh mountains. I will stay put now. Too tired to bridge the oceans and because of this, every word, every touch of shared life, every talk into the night, opens the heavens to me. Every shoulder I rest upon is like Cello's gaze.
|La Professoressa, the Gardener, the Bringer of Life|
And the woman who for all these years in this new land of mine has held me in her arms, in the joy of life, looks down at me and says, "You will not leave me until you have too,"