Calm

 By Maryanna Gabriel 

A hummingbird hovered outside my bedroom window. Was this creature of delight telling me the feeders were empty?

It has been time for awhile now. Gotta go. House on the market with thoughts as to my future. Letting go of things accumulated. Not just things, the beauty I created here on this forested property of Salt Spring Island. The gardens, the trees, the sounds of many bird calls.

More, much flexibility as I do the dance with realtors, and prospective buyers. 

The trouble, or perhaps the blessing, depending how I look at it, is my back. The accident last summer... my back needs to heal. It is the twisting and turning, as lawns and whatnot compete for  attention. So, my body compels me in new directions even if my resolve wavers.

A quick check of the hummingbird nectar indicates the feeders are empty. How extraordinary. Well, I must not disappoint the dears. 

When They Leave Us

 By Maryanna Gabriel

In between monsoons, floods, atmospheric rivers, and record cold temperatures, the man I married long ago, died. He was in so much pain. I thought I was prepared. Not that it was a shock. Not. More a quake. A deep seismic plunge that rolled throughout tectonic plates of memory, an eruption that rocked me lose. Cells unlocked and rearranged themselves. Am better today. The ground seems steadier and I think I have located edges where I stop and start.