Polar Bears & Orchids

[sweetwater]

IT WAS EARLY AUGUST, and the afternoons were so very dry, marsh berries and hillsides auburned by the edge and precipice of a drying soil ... and the sun, dancing amongst the various sprouting grasses and buttercups, dandelions and dragonflies. The sound of the ocean became the soundscape of time, spent in the afternoon.
It was the summer before the spring of present ... laying against a small embankment, underneath a hedge of balsam firs and boughs, in the covering of a wind, gentle in the spiraling overture, rhythmic and soothing in a light blue sky, serene and so sublime.
The seagulls themselves, aristocrats in the skyline, careless in the gliding fortune of a heavenly gust, and the horizon spanning across a sea, and becoming lost in a distance and definition, freed from the possibility of knowing the exact latitude, unmarked, with only the sun and its relative position as an anchor to the temporal world of objects and things ... on wings in flight.

Dried flowers and sticks on a sea logged beach next to hills, in a backdrop of flotsam and stranded lines of hemp rope, sun dried amongst the remains of a seashore in broken lobster traps. Hooded Lay Tresses on a marsh ... on a limestone breccia and bogs ... it was early august and the sun was so very bright ... in the embrace of cumulus clouds and winds, in the morning hours that followed a full moon. It was a place of polar bears and orchids. A poem decomposed in the great open silence, unraveling in the empty ... becoming as light and fragrant ... in the perfume of flowers and endpoints as dreams unawakened ... the expanse and fullness of breath in the wanting and breathing life into itself.
And then only to forget and to begin the unawakened dream again ... as if the forgetting was by design ... a design by complication and celebration where everything is contextualized in the surreal notation of a silent offering ... and the silence became as friends.

[Yejun]

I must have started reading this three or four times before I finished the whole thing. I don't know why.

Some of the descriptions here are great, the title is great, but (and this could just as easily be my sudden attack of ADD or something) I wonder if you might pare it down a bit.

[Nazz]

Nice to see some prose around here. Always enjoy the idea of disengaging-- "...only the sun and its relative position as an anchor to the temporal world..."

My places of disengagement have tended to be more sparse and austere-- "unfinished" landscapes of my remotest imaginings. About four years ago in southeastern Oregon, the sun-- it's position and trajectory in the sky-- was literally my only connection to "the grid" when I managed to actually get myself lost out on the rolling sage. That was a little too much disconnect. Not a good sensation.

[mtmynd]

i enjoyed the peacefulness and calm your piece engendered, sweetwater... it's time for my nap now.

Thank you