A couple nights ago I went to pick up a pizza just after sunset. It was cold – in the 30s – in the parking lot of the little mall where the pizza place shoulders against the post office, the bike shop and the nail salon. I parked near the last red-ribboned lamppost, ringed with fake pine and twinkle lights.
I meant to jog out of the syrup-y chill, drawn by the smell of tomatoes, garlic and yeast. But I looked up and saw a trio of palm trees outlined against the jade horizon under a quarter moon and the evening star, so I stopped to snap a few iPhone pics. And I thought of you – my friends who would see this when I posted it on the last day of this year - and believed that you would see the beauty in this odd cast of characters and the hopefulness of the moon and its faithful glowing companion.
This New Year’s Eve is the end of a year that was harder for many of us than most years in recent memory; it is grinding to a close; it has thumped bruises under my skin and the pain isn’t over, not yet. This is the last Christmas for someone I love, for Craig, and he was delighted to live to see it, which makes me happy in the saddest way. It’s like eating the last of your favorite cookies.
This is no ten-cent town, but Emmylou Harris’s very young, round voice singing that song has been playing in my head since the night I took the picture. So listen to her with me, would you, and let’s wish that things will be easier from now on for all of us, all right?
Peace. Love.
Candy
This piece was originally published on my website and was there entitled "Almost Midnight on the West Edge." This week's posts can be found by clicking on Adobe Soup: the Unzipped Life of Candace Mann and scrolling down the home page. Thanks for reading - either here or there.
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Comments
Good morning, Candace, my friend. Happy 2012. xo
Happy New Year to you!
This was a hard year for me too. Gosh how I miss my momma. You know what though? I do not wish for an easy life. An easy life sounds like a bowl of Cream of Wheat, bleh. I'd prefer a rich juicy chewy stew. The number of times I wake with a throat full of grief is equivalent to the number of times that I gasp with delight at some unexpected giblet of joy.
So...thirty degrees in S. CA? Yikes.
"Thirty degrees in southern California", greenheron wrote. As "southern California" is part of my (unwritten) gypsy autobiography, may I -- from a little OVER thirty degrees so far this morning in Washington State, send you greetings of chill and warmings, o.k.?
Yes, I think anno 2011 was a tough one for many of us. Maybe even all of us? [Who knows?] But your many posts here on OS have _always_ cheered me, so my heartfelt thanks to you!
N.B. I was thrilled by the daytime sight of our valiant first quarter moon yesterday, but failed to track our beloved Venus. Thanks for the skywatch "heads up"! ;-)
cutting through caribbean
seas with my soul watch
ing Venus, that vixen
offering her breast
mother of pearl
empty bowls
to Corvus
t
h
e crow.
(onelessone/onemoretwo) ha!
Unexpectedly clear, sunny and dry.
Coffee and then a walk.
Looking back at last year's moon.
We need these beacons.
oh yeah and then there was a kind of strange encounter with the christian preacher proseletyzer out for his nightly walk which doesnt really fit into the rest of this very well haha
I'm glad your brother made it to Christmas, I smiled to read he's delighted. Bittersweet smile. My friend made it too. She's pretty delighted as well.
May 2012 be one of those years that surprises you with how wonderful it turns out to be : )
Delightful.
Beautiful photo - filled with longing
~R~
so thank you, each person. there are a few new ones (to me) here - and i'd like you to know i'm grateful you came by and took the time to leave a sentence or two. it's always nice to see a new reader, someone whose blog i can check out.
my old pals, familiar at the turn of the year for the third time, i wish i had the right words to say so you'd know how important you are to me, how writing for your wonderful selves has, in large part, gotten me through a rough time, that you remind me of perspective, the wisdom of trying, of joy. you are smart and caring and lovely - it is the reason this place works for me, for so many of us, that we gather here and help each other laugh and cry.
heron's comment made me think (like her comments usually do), and i remembered a piece i wrote about 18 months ago (seems like a lifetime) after a trip to sebastopol and a time spent sifting magic dirt in a vineyard, an orchard. i declared that i wanted more of the incredible highs from the beauty of life and was fully willing to take the lows of despair to get them, that i would not choose a painless life, the middle way. i loved that piece and what many of you wrote there, too, and i stand by it today, even with all that's happened and will soon come. there are juicy morsels in the future - for me and for all of you. if you were here, i would bake you a cake - the best you've ever tasted - and feed it to you on a white plate with a silver fork that gleams like the moon.
happy 'twelve. it was my favorite number as a kid, so, as they say, there's that.
oh, if you want to read the magic dirt piece, it's at An Overdose of Bliss
I empathise with your feelings for different reasons and wish you all the best for 2012.
I certainly understand the idea of wanting to show my fellow OSer's what I see too.
Loved this one...
Thank you. Tomatoes, garlic & yeast to you.
... the quietest ... the ones we hold forever ... in our hearts ...
as here ... we all ... hold you ... as you hold Craig ...
with love ...