reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: reeds


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light-blue and blonde. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

somewhere around 1984 or 1986 or so i totally splurged on a dress. it had a background of light blue with puffed-up shoulders that narrowed along my forearm to my wrist, like a juliet sleeve. the bodice was fitted and the dress was knee-ish length. it was a pricey $35 and i wore it only “for good”.

i’m pretty amazed thinking about that treasured dress because i am not really a light-blue person. now, i love light-blue sky and light-blue robin’s eggs and light-blue forget-me-nots and the lightish-blue denim jacket that was my poppo’s, but light-blue in general is not a color i wear.

were i to wear it, however, i would have the tones of this photograph…reeds and sky on an early spring day.

i could have stood and stared at the reeds for a long time. as it was, i did stand and stare at them for quite a while, lost in the ballet that was driven by the wind.

and in those moments, i never once thought about what is happening in the world right now, the chaos and destruction. instead, i was dancing with the reeds, immersed in light blue sky and blonde plumes.

at this point, we are finding it necessary to try and escape our thinking minds. overwrought with angst is not a good way to spend time. so we step out of time and hike or cook or write or give belly-bellies to our dogga. we dream of places to go and trips to take and projects to embark upon. we continue to sort and clean out, donate and toss. we don’t – we can’t – spend every single waking moment trying to solve something that we – alone – cannot solve.

somewhere along the line i gave away that light-blue-puffy-shouldered dress. i wonder if someone cut it up for a quilt, much like i will do with a little-house-on-the-prairie type dress i remember absolutely loving in 1982 and which i found in the dress-up-and-pretend bin downstairs. that dress had big layered ruffles – which apparently are back in style. as a person who is now somehow always peripheral to trending fashion, it’s surprising to see flouncy ruffles out and about.

the dirt trail, dancing reeds and unlimited sky don’t seem to care what i wear. their light-blue and blonde gift is not simply lack of apparel-judgment or vogue-couture-wincing.

their gift is what they offer to us in presence. engaged in the ballet, the dress-memories, the air around me, i learn – once again – to stand still in the center of the moment.

and for that i am grateful.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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stripes. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

the reeds on our trails in the winter – tall and willowy, reaching for the sky in a color that looks like leftover sun you saved in a jar. the cattails are massive, even the ones that have lost tails…all dwarfing us. tall stripes in the marsh cutting perpendicular into the horizon, they are exceptionally beautiful.

i’m not a stripe-wearer. with the exception of one hooded baja pullover, i’m pretty sure i own zero clothing items with stripes. this has not always been true.

i distinctly remember a pair of multi-colored striped bell bottoms i really loved – way back in junior high. i remember my candystriper uniform – candycane stripes for volunteering in the hospital. oh… and those ever-present red and white striped terrycloth footed dr. denton pajamas. i remember the stripes on my v-neck sweater – the one that everyone had back in the day – navy and maroon v-stripes on a white cable pullover. i distinctly remember one other sweater – a turtleneck – a favorite – that had stripes. i wore it tucked into my jeans way back in high school. i remember stripes i wore when i was a volunteer “arrestee” for the american cancer society’s jail ‘n bail. but i can’t remember many other stri-ped (two syllables as they say) things that have made it into either my closet or my dresser.

and – in more information than you ever needed or wanted, some further thoughts on stripes:

as i sit here and look around i am struck by the horizontal stripes that surround me. the obvious wood floors – though these are vertical as well (mostly) depending on where in the room you are standing. the miniblinds on all our windows. the louvered closet doors, the dresser drawers, the many tiny drawers in the wooden armoire, the stacked (not standing) books in the glass-front chimney cabinet. many patterns – all horizontal.

if, however, i were to wear stripes, they would have to be vertical. horizontal and baby-borne hips don’t go well together. (at least in my opinion as it relates to me). i don’t know if this helps to explain my love of beadboard or my love of big old doors. both vertical. there must be a theory of explanation in there somewhere.

i think i also have a thing about wearing stripes – i feel like if i am going to wear them, they need to stay parallel to the ground – 180 degrees straight – even stripes, not all wonky and helter-skelter…like part of the stripe tucked in and part untucked and on some skewed sort of angle, which bugs me to an unusual degree of being bugged. horizontal stripes have a lot of room for error. and stripes…seriously…well, they should be neat – tidy stripes. it just feels to me that stripes are like that. they demand precision. i try to veer away from such strict parameters.

maybe that is why i wear solid colors mostly. there is less worry about conforming to specific stripe/plaid/print rules, real or imagined.

it is good that i am not a santa’s elf. i am way beyond wishing to wear red and white horizontal-striped tights.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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the cattails. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

cattails feel like home to me.

i grew up on long island – which is, quite obviously by definition, surrounded by water. i spent the vast majority of my time outside at the beach. winter, spring, summer and fall. pebbly beaches along the sound, sandy dunes along the ocean, beach grasses and willowy reeds dominate the vegetation and, so, seeing cattails is like seeing home.

the next time we go there i’ll spend a good bit of time at those beaches. it will be time to reclaim them, to reclaim that place.

it is no surprise to learn that these plants that pull at my heart – cattails – are resilient and adaptable, persistent and resourceful, able to flourish in all kinds of circumstances and under adverse conditions.

spiritually, they symbolize peace and tranquility – the very things i always felt at those beaches back in the day, the same thing i feel as we hike through portions of our trail where we are dwarfed by the cattails surrounding us.

i slow down in those sections, soaking up the denseness of these stands on both sides of the trail. seagulls and red-winged blackbirds elicit the same when i spot them – they zip around and i stand – transported back in time to the marshland on my way to crab meadow or the dunes surrounded by sand fencing on fire island. i stand in memory. no wonder i love this trail.

we arrive back home after hiking – a tiny bit sunburned, our legs tired. the grasses and daylilies in the front yard greet us as we pull in. they are robust and their greeting is in chorus. and i realize that these, too, are the plants of the island. these grasses, these daylilies, spilling-over hydrangea, the ferns in the back, the hosta, sweet lavender…they are the plantings of the waterfront; they are familiar.

we surround ourselves purposefully – and sometimes unintentionally – with things that help us, things that feel good, things that ground us. we sink roots deep and move in the wind like the reeds in marshes, like cattails in a summer storm. we are resilient and flexible, making do with workarounds and chutzpah. we survive and have unlimited ability to thrive.

we are just like the cattails.

those plants that feel like home.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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