Moments From the Sky

 

1. Intipunku, the sun gate. The fourth and final day. Up at 4:30 to hike in the dark to this particular spot. Where gods once watched Machu Picchu awaken. Our group of travelers, once strangers, turned friends from days on the trail, stops suddenly.  We have arrived. Backpacks slip from shoulders, spots are staked, a quiet falls on the otherwise boisterous crowd.  I lean against my pack, ready.  The first flicker of light, then the next.  The city I’ve waited a lifetime to see appears before me as the sun climbs into the sky.  This is why you hike four days. Vale la pena.

 

 

2. Sitting on the dock of the bar, legs dangling over the water, surrounded by strangers I’ve never loved more, friends I’d never met till now. Music floating to me on the gentle waves disturbing the reflection of the harvest moon hanging so low above me. Breathtaking brightness in the Panama night. I sip my rum and coke and smile up. She sees me tonight.

 

 

3. On the ship just as the first drops of rain began to fall.  Gentle, soft, warm rain.  The kind of rain you dance in, and we did.  As the ship pulled away from the port, we said goodbye to Malaysia in a series and twists and turns to the music of the rain as if fell upon us in the hot, hot evening.

 

 

4. I said, these are sun setting chairs.  We turned them to face the ocean. Just in time to watch the sun dip her rays into the water, testing it.  A cold Toña beer in each of our hands.  I found an easiness in San Jaun Del Sur, I’d never found before or since.  As the sun slipped into the sea to rest for the night, I settled in. There are some places you cannot leave.

 

 

5. Each flash of lightning longer than the last.  I take the moment to stare at you and find your eyes on me. I blush, avert my eyes.  The raindrops come stronger, harder, but we are protected beneath the awning in a moment ours alone. Staring out into the dark of the storm, each burst of light, a chance to know you.

Moments From the Sky

 

1. Intipunku, the sun gate. The fourth and final day. Up at 4:30 to hike in the dark to this particular spot. Where gods once watched Machu Picchu awaken. Our group of travelers, once strangers, turned friends from days on the trail, stops suddenly.  We have arrived. Backpacks slip from shoulders, spots are staked, a quiet falls on the otherwise boisterous crowd.  I lean against my pack, ready.  The first flicker of light, then the next.  The city I’ve waited a lifetime to see appears before me as the sun climbs into the sky.  This is why you hike four days. Vale la pena.

 

 

2. Sitting on the dock of the bar, legs dangling over the water, surrounded by strangers I’ve never loved more, friends I’d never met till now. Music floating to me on the gentle waves disturbing the reflection of the harvest moon hanging so low above me. Breathtaking brightness in the Panama night. I sip my rum and coke and smile up. She sees me tonight.

 

 

3. On the ship just as the first drops of rain began to fall.  Gentle, soft, warm rain.  The kind of rain you dance in, and we did.  As the ship pulled away from the port, we said goodbye to Malaysia in a series and twists and turns to the music of the rain as if fell upon us in the hot, hot evening.

 

 

4. I said, these are sun setting chairs.  We turned them to face the ocean. Just in time to watch the sun dip her rays into the water, testing it.  A cold Toña beer in each of our hands.  I found an easiness in San Jaun Del Sur, I’d never found before or since.  As the sun slipped into the sea to rest for the night, I settled in. There are some places you cannot leave.

 

 

5. Each flash of lightning longer than the last.  I take the moment to stare at you and find your eyes on me. I blush, avert my eyes.  The raindrops come stronger, harder, but we are protected beneath the awning in a moment ours alone. Staring out into the dark of the storm, each burst of light, a chance to know you.

Moments in Nature

1. Joel and I hiking in Santiago. At the top, we sit, just the two of us, on rocks. Stare out at the sky. A bird in the distance. Circling closer. We turn to one another. “That’s a condor.” It is. A magical silence as we stand and watch in awe.

2. One week in Ushuaia before my ship leaves for Antarctica. A week pass purchased for the trails in Tierra Del Fuego. A path along the water that crosses the border between Chile and Argentina. Pesos of each country left at the marker. An animal coming toward me. My gait slows as he approaches. We greet each other tentatively, him circling me, sniffing, me, mouth agape, not fear, wonder. The grey wolf looks me in the eyes once before carrying on. I turn and watch as he disappears. The reason I prefer to hike alone.

3. The third day out in the zodiacs. The ship silhouetted in the sky behind us. A tour of the icebergs. We watch chinstrap penguins slide into the water, skuas fly overhead, a Weddell seal pass beneath the boat. But we are patient. Then, just in front of us, a blue whale surfaces. The ocean splashes in. It glides along with us, close enough to touch. Silence.

4. Early morning weeding in my backyard. The kitty’s lounge in the already warm grass. Footsteps rustle the leaves on the ground. A deer jumps over the fence. Nudges the fallen apples with her nose. She has been here before.

Moments in Nature

1. Joel and I hiking in Santiago. At the top, we sit, just the two of us, on rocks. Stare out at the sky. A bird in the distance. Circling closer. We turn to one another. “That’s a condor.” It is. A magical silence as we stand and watch in awe.

2. One week in Ushuaia before my ship leaves for Antarctica. A week pass purchased for the trails in Tierra Del Fuego. A path along the water that crosses the border between Chile and Argentina. Pesos of each country left at the marker. An animal coming toward me. My gait slows as he approaches. We greet each other tentatively, him circling me, sniffing, me, mouth agape, not fear, wonder. The grey wolf looks me in the eyes once before carrying on. I turn and watch as he disappears. The reason I prefer to hike alone.

3. The third day out in the zodiacs. The ship silhouetted in the sky behind us. A tour of the icebergs. We watch chinstrap penguins slide into the water, skuas fly overhead, a Weddell seal pass beneath the boat. But we are patient. Then, just in front of us, a blue whale surfaces. The ocean splashes in. It glides along with us, close enough to touch. Silence.

4. Early morning weeding in my backyard. The kitty’s lounge in the already warm grass. Footsteps rustle the leaves on the ground. A deer jumps over the fence. Nudges the fallen apples with her nose. She has been here before.