The sound of silence

is missing as Fall draws near

“Close the window,” says Keelin. ” It’s noisy.”

So, we shut out the Holiday noise

of leaf blowers, while we wait for our fall to snow from the birch trees in the backyard.  Coming down and nestling

within the last of the blooms while the sun lowers on the horizon

and shines through, bringing them back to life.

While the weed whackers drone, we put those sounds with the plane

right over our heads as we admire the sky which hid from us all summer.

and moves us on toward winter and soft sounds where the snow comes down

and all of our neighbors’ hard work will be covered.  Until they bring out the leaf blower and blow away the beautiful white, silent snow.

roof top garden

September 6th, 2010

The moon returns

heralding the end of the Alaskan summer, where summers have no real sounds, except for cars on the highway, planes in the air, magpies screeching in the trees.

Summers so different from my childhood, where the moon made no difference.

In my summers, cicadas were thrumming loudly, June bug skins on screen doors to be picked off.

The smell of tar, sticking to your bare feet with gravel crunching under bike tire wheels, the taste of  wet foods, none to cook.

Legs burning on car seats, breathing labored with hot, wet air reverberating with the fierce heat lightning, one thousand one, one thousand two…

But the moon always came with a promise of reprieve.

This moon, like a street light, where my streetlights were barrels.

Rusted with flames licking out around the edges as our summers burned away in our yards.

And the harvest moon overshadowing the end of those summers.

moon from rooftop garden

August 25th, 2010