Saturday, May 5, 2012

What the Water Gave Me

My full-on on Florence + the Machine obsession is rocking hard. This song goes to my guts.

I'm heading out in a few to test the waters, as it were. I haven't been swimming since early last summer, but as a parting gift from the YW, I got a membership to Nautilus. I'm feeling like the bed days that stretched into weeks have started to be harmful, but most exercise triggers more pain. Water should be my best option. If swimming is too much, I'll at least grab some hot tub time.

Water is so healing and home-feeling to me. My great thinking happens in a bath or shower, and a hot tub and claw foot bath are the only real decadent dream-home items I really strive for. Real soul homes are the Atlantic's salty goddessey tides at Cape Hatteras and the looming cargo ships at River Street in Savannah. The tempestuous white breaks of the New River, and the shallow clarity and marble-smooth stone bottom of the Greenbrier here in West Virginia. Born squarely in the arms of a Mountain Mother, seeing and tasting the ocean's power was a deep homecoming feeling.

It hurts to leave the deeper waters, but less now to return to this house. I'm writing out on my front porch, and the April and May rains are rushing a happy summer song in Sugar Creek, so sweet. When the water gets high enough to talk to me I feel so much at home here. The air smells amazing, the birds sing, praising a little break in our rainy season- tiny yellow finches that match the tiger swallowtail butterflies that inhabit our hollow in huge numbers.

Home is lovely and beloved, but such a tiny teardrop taste of the wild oceans and rivers I'm dreaming.

*Thank you to dear Anne for her Merfilk Pinterest board- image by Watwrhouse.*

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