Monday, June 30, 2008

Monday, Remembering

I love traveling, but isn't home nice, too?

Here are photos! One of my boy and his beloved. And then, my boy's beloved. Finally, one of my boy, my brother-in-law, and my beloved. Unfortunately, since we were on a ferry, I didn't manage to get our daughter-in-law into the same pic with the fellas. If only I remembered to force folks to pose!

While we were on this island, I kept trying to concentrate on really remembering--being in the moment--because I get so few with the boy and his beloved, but at the same time, I was mauled by the idea muse. (Muses are generally a bit of a frou frou concept for me. I'm far too pragmatic to partake, but it was like being bombarded.)

I guess concentrating on being in the moment worked because I can turn over the seconds of that day like sparkly gems--sun glinting on water, the scent of salt in the air, the crunch of gravel beneath our feet as we climbed toward the island road. The amazing perfume of antique roses that grew along the road, and my daughter-in-law talking about the roses her mother kept. Mine did, too.

Finally, the laughter. My husband and his brother sound so much the same. My son's grin before he laughs. He's always taken that slow approach to laughing. It makes the unexpected burst that much more contagious.

I loved that day with my family, but I also won't soon forget my hunger for something to write on. I leave purses anywhere they go with me, so normally, I just try not to take one. But, you know, that far from home, you need stuff--a camera--I did have. Wallet--yup--managed to keep a grip on that. All in a suitcase-sized bag. That was a mistake. Who needs a big, old pink suitcase when she's climbing rock cliffs? I just hope there were no other writers, gathering character quirks whilst I lugged that thing around as if it were attached with industrial-strength glue.

And the one thing I didn't take? Paper and pen.

But isn't the family beautiful? And did you notice the sky and water? Maybe sometimes a writer has to put down the paper and pen (or forget to stash some in the pink, lug-me-anwhere bag) and do some living with the family under sky on water.

1 comment:

Mary Malcolm said...

You were refilling the well. Sometimes as writers we have to put down the pen and paper and remember to just live. It's through just living that we're able to pick that pen and paper back up and describe life to the world.

Very nice pictures. And I think better for them not being posed. It looks like you had a lovely trip!