Sometimes My Sister Takes Me To Where I Need To Be

In the morning I already felt resistance to the laid out plans of the day, and I hoped that the window I had left for a little dancing and sculpting would stay open. My appointment at the clinic for the Medicare endorsed wellness exam was early, so I should be home by ten. The outing with family and friends was not until one. Surely, all would be well.

The appointment was with a nurse practitioner who would supposedly evaluate me for at risk factors...someone who would actually listen as I spoke of various concerns...and maybe offer assistance. My weight and height were noted. Then, as I sat down she announced that I was her very first patient. Uh Oh...

There followed an seemingly endless period during which I sat and waited as "A" tried to figure out how the computer program worked. She had a little booklet in one hand into which she peered before peering at the computer. Apparently, the peering did no good. At one point I tried to tell her of the hot flashes that still racked my body at age seventy. I had already had about five by that time. In fact, maybe the first one had simply not ended. I felt my day being sucked into an abyss, as she stopped me to say: "No... You will have to wait until I get this right." Well...no... Perhaps I didn't... I had waited for an hour as she peered from book to computer, and my usually patient persona had been overtaken by a Fury. I barely managed to exit the building before tears of rage burst the dam.

Was I crying because this ridiculous survey that never started had wasted my precious time and energy, or was it tears in place of anger. Probably both...

So... What of the window of time for sculpting and dancing?
Instead, I must yield to the gift that was currently flooding my system: Emotion... And, eventually, to rest and a good book. So be it...

My sister, Mary, is the instigator behind our yearly outings to the Sandhill Crane Refuge. And they are timed to happen at the time of our cousin, Marjorie's birthday. This is partly because of the violets blooming. The tiny purple flower used to be visited by outings to "the valley", From childhood on I remember those magical outings that took place at the time when spring was tentatively appearing.  Now we go to the Sandhill Crane Refuge.

The refuge is enormous, and the birds don't really hang out in the area we visit. A marvelous pine strewn nature trail leads into woods, where stretched out savannahs of pines, palmettos and occasional oaks create an atmosphere of expansive beauty. The loveliness of the vista is accompanied by a sound that enters your system and causes an instinctive need to listen and absorb. Perhaps it is the wind at play in the upper branches of the pines. 

With camera poised, I followed my sister, my cousin, and our women friends, chronicling their hunt for violets, their discoverings of every single flower...so vulnerable in its  solitude. Other gifts were noted: wild plants that only Mary remembers the names of...and birds that I am too slow to find as they flit from branch to branch. I do love the violets, and my role as camera wielder, but for me it is the pines that most draw my eyes: from the tall, straight trees along the path through the endlessly recurring growth into the distance. They appear to diminish in size yet not in their power of attraction. I cannot begin to describe their beauty. Not really... Only that I photograph and photograph their dance and cannot capture it.

And so, I choose a picture of my sister...in a place where the trees are less dynamic then her knowing gaze. For without her I may have never seen the trees.