I think I have just woke up

Today, whilst sitting on the cool slightly damp sand, at the nearby beach I suddenly noticed..... No not the calm blue water, the small fishing craft floating way off toward the horizon nor the large container ships sitting sedentarily in the bay waiting to go into the docks.
No I noticed the slightly buffed tall man with short dark brown hair walking his what looked like an airedale terrier. 
Was it the way his dark blue t shirt sat on his torso or his light blue casual style jeans sat on what looked like quite firm butt cheeks or just the mysteriousness of him.  For it was the middle of a work day and he definetly had that tradie look about him.
Since when did I suddenly notice the men around me???
I mean its not that I haven't been looking in the past twelve + months since rob died but suddenly today they were everywhere i went.  You know HOT guys.
Sure there were the ubiquitous 'cuddly' guys at the local hardware store and the definitely married guys with bay on hip or holding a childs hand or even being nagged, lightly , by said wife/ partner.BUT today I actually noticed gorgeous guys.
So why of all a sudden has this epipthany occurred?
Did the universe suddenly decide that enough was enough and time I actually got 'with the program' and began looking seriously for a new mate?
Or has my heart finally mended, as far as it gets mended, and it decided there is actual room in there for some loving?
I am still young, relatively attractive, "bubbly" as my neighbor put it last saturday  - also asking why I was alone?  No he was happily married but he and his wife had wondered why there was no one significant in my life.   So I guess they, too were trying to help me with this change.  It probably did not help when I mentioned that I thought their younger son (29) was an attractive man and why wasn't he already taken? For they are Italians and usually they are married by that age and procreating.

I am not ready to be truly alone for the rest of my life, and going by current average age of my elders that is easily another 50 + years to go, nor am i ready to 'get a cat etc' ( sorry to cat and dog lovers out there)
So how come I have really noticed how many drop dead gorgeous guys are actually around?
How do I now get over my introversion, lack of socialisation skills, low self confidence and get a date with one of these "Hot Guys"?

just cos'

thought you would like the laugh at the ambiguity of words

Letting Love go.

Here is a short story I wrote about the loss of my one true love.
............................................................................................................................................................

It was now fourteen months, and one week, after her birthday later.  Louise was still miserable, heartbroken, depressed and just aching.  The birthday passed in a deep, depression and mindless sleep filled with dreams and conversations with Rob.  She was still grieving him.  Still, truly heartbroken.  In October, of the past year, He had ended their relationship.   Taking, all that Louise, thought she knew about him away from her.  At first there had been signs, little inconsequential signs – well, what she, now knew, and thought were inconsequential, over a period of months maybe a year beforehand.  Upon reflection they, the        inconsequential signs, had began, around the time, his father was, diagnosed with (terminal) prostate cancer.  The tired harried expressions, the angry impatient outbursts with her and others that ‘GOT IN’ the way.  Many would call it ‘snappiness.’ The constant asking about when and/or where they were all coming and/or going. The Long hours spent at work or on the computer.   He then began to spend more and more time, away from her.  She suspected with somebody else.    This restlessness and, the newly developed, eating habits should have set off warning alarms.   For a person who was so health conscious he began to eat ‘Junk food’ for, nearly every meal.   But no, Louise had ignored them because she too, was adversely, affected by the older mans prognosis.           

A black dog had invaded their lives; and it needed to be fed.

For, Louise had been actually sick with heartbreak and rejection. Recalling the shock and the denial of what went, so horribly, wrong.  The refusal to acknowledge the fact he was gone from her life.  Who was that person who stood there and had to tell family and friends?   Apparently it was her but it still seemed like another person altogether.   Over this time, she still talked to him because his presence was there.  Unfortunately not providing any answers to all the questions left - unanswered.  Then Louise’s’ mind became so dull, foggy and blank - oh so blank! 

Remembering, how at work she became very robotic just functioning on autopilot.  There were numerous times, Louise would crave an ‘empty mind.’  The heart became heavy, full of lead and dark with despair.  Every other part of her being was lethargic.  Nothing would function the way it should.   It was all, so tiring yet sleep did not come easily. Finally, waking, most mornings; feeling as though she had just shut her eyes.  Memories, of happier times, would flood back in and the grief began all over again.  

As Bruce Springsteen, so eloquently, sang on that album dedicated to the tragedy of 9/11.  “...everything is everything but you’re missing... pictures on the nightstand, TV is on... you’re house is waiting...you’re missing when I shut out the light....  “...Too much room in my bed ... too many phone calls to say how everything is everything... but you’re missing...”    

Then there were all those platitudes, from well meaning people “one day at a time’ “have a little patience” Ironically Rob would say that to her, when Louise became frustrated with work or life in general.  The people who had said these things where were they now?

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Louise would remember how, as she got closer to the mountain there was a sense of nervous, fearful excitement, anticipation which rose, gradually in her soul.  Recalling, how she stopped at the side of the road and inhaling slowly, deeply as looking up at the mountain.   By starting the journey, this time, Louise knew Rob would be there waiting, patiently, for her.  For this was where they were both ‘at home.’  

The feeling of excitement was hard to repress.  She felt like a little kid who was doing something that they shouldn’t.   Her heart and mind waged battle with each other. One saying ‘...Turn back now...’ the other just that little bit stronger ‘keep moving forward it is too far to turn back now....’ ‘You’re here now, so, just do this.’ Somewhere in her soul - life struggled to emerge from under the grief and misery. It was just after leaving Mansfield that Louise had decided to stop.   As she, pulled the car onto the grass verge by the roadside.   Narrowly, avoiding, some, semi large rocks in the culvert.  The first thing she noticed was the heat shimmer.  The whole view before her seemed to be melting.  On a nearby crooked fence, post sat a large old black crow. With its lucent, black eyes, staring suspiciously at her.  Was this some type of omen of what was to come?  For, some people believed that crows were harbingers of bad news.  Pushing, the new sunglasses back on to her head.    The eyes adjusted to the glare.    As they, began to, hurt from the intensity of the sunshine.   Hurriedly, Louise pulled the sunglasses back over her eyes to shade them from this brilliance.   Even her shirt had a light coat of sweat under the arms. Was that the excitement or just the dry heat? Hypnotically her breathing slowed as though her whole body realised that it had left the city far behind and, as of now, switching to country ‘time’. The tension, always, and ever present in her neck and shoulders, seemed to, also, begin to subside.   There had been a couple of other attempts at this journey but this time it was no dress       rehearsal; it was for real and happening.  For there it was; right in front of Louise - the mountains or the High Country, according to folklore, legends and tourism campaigns.  The mountains’ altitude stretched and soared blocking the far eastern horizon. The dark charcoal tipped peaks looked as though somebody had cut them out and stuck them against an azure blue sky. Their rounded peaks hid its deep cragged fern filled vales, waterfalls, creeks and rocky slopes covered in a myriad of heaths, ferns and blackberries.    Its intense beauty and fearful enormity threw off an air of mystery. Shrouded in varying shades of blue, grey and purple, towering eucalypts, red gums, and mountain ash sent off a bruised blue like vapour that resembled smoke from a fire to the untrained eye.  The sun moved, hurriedly, across the range. A stray, puffy cumulus cloud hung, in the sky like a child’s drawing, just stuck there all haphazardly.   The, everlasting, drought still had a stranglehold on everything.  The air was sultry, stifling, and it was hard to catch your breath without feeling the earthy heat burn the back of your throat.  The paddocks were that scorched golden brown, bought on by many years of drought.   A half dozen, dirty brown, in color, sheep grazed slowly on what little grass had survived. Heads down, trying not to look around too far abreast in case the world had changed.  Even they were exhausted from the heat, continually, rising from the parched earth.  Grass, where growing, was wavering in the hot northerly wind; almost too exhausted to do anything else.  The grasses looked brittle, like pieces of toffee yet, somehow survived the environment where it grew.  The bitumen shimmered with a haze the belied the actually ambient temperature of the day.   Liquorice black in colour; it wound its way across the valley floor disappearing into the mountains.  It was, as though, somebody had taken a large black marker pen and drawn the way forward across the landscape.  Lazily more crows, white cockatoos and other bird life flew across the skyline. Where were they flying? Who knew?  Their wings flapped just enough to maintain flight against the white blue sky. Everywhere the countryside looked tired, as though it had given up on life.  It seemed exhausted by Mother Natures’ constant change of mind.

As the noise of a large semi trailer, rushing past shook her from her reverie; Louise began to notice the increased flow of traffic.   A marked police car cruised past heading back into the town. More and more traffic, like ants scurrying about prior to rain, drove past as they tried to get up the mountain before dark.  

With her mind winning the battle, Louise slowly turned the ignition over.  For Rob, would be waiting for her, patiently; safe in the knowledge she would be turn up – this time.  Checking the rear view mirror began to pull out onto this dark shimmering road, which snaked across the flat valley floor leading into the dark green forest. This was the magical entry point of the mountains.   As the drought, ravaged paddocks gave way to the green trees of a differing geography. The road became   narrow and there seemed to be even more traffic, all trying to get to the one destination- the summit of that valley;  the crown of the High country – Mount Buller.

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In the semi darkness of that first night, home, the alarm went off at 4:30 am; it was just like getting up for swim training. Outside the window, the sky was deep black with no noticeable moonlight.   Louise couldn’t believe how her senses seemed, suddenly, very alive and heightened. Although her heart was still full of despair and hurt, it began to tenaciously, and stubbornly prepare itself for further physical pain.  For he was here and waiting.   

It was this thought, of actually seeing him again, that made her heart struggle into ‘fight or flight’ mode

She hastily pulled on a pair of warm hiking socks, boots, jeans and shirt; shrugging on her, lucky charm and (old) familiar purple snow ski jacket.  Thank god, she had thrown that into the car.  It was hard to believe it really was the middle of summer not winter.  That is what always drew her to the mountains the unpredictability of the weather.  Rob was waiting for her, just outside the lodge door.   She quietly slipped out one of the side doors, of the lodge to join him. The rocks, crunched under her (new) Colorado hiking boots.

The night sky had a light mistiness.  At ground level, everything was damp with the cold night air; the grass tingled with the dew. In the distance there were three other people walking     toward the summit.  With their heads bowed reverently against the chilly air and hands buried deep in their pockets, she could hear the light crunch of rocks under foot.      

Otherwise, there was no other sound.  Rob was a few steps in front of her, leading the way to the summit.   All was very serenely peaceful.

Burying her cold fingers into the pockets, Louise cursed that she hadn’t bought any gloves with her.  Letting her eyes adjust to the moonless sky, which took a little too long, she tripped over a rock, bruising her ankle in the process. Cursing her stupidity, Louise quickly apologised aloud – to who she was not sure.  Striding forward far too quickly Louise began to feel exhausted from the thin, high altitude air.   Breathing deeply, trying to catch her breath.   Her breath, upon exhale, hung in the air, foggy like.  Then there at the summit, all was so silent.  Locating a small nook in the rocky outcrop, Louise sat down, pulling her jacket whole body to stay warm and dry.   Rob just stood there, silently, looking at the far horizon.  Then it began – her breathing became slower and, more, meditative like.  Emotionally, her soul, and its’ aches, gradually unravelled and embraced something magical.  Swooping, soaring, struggling for flight like a fledgling baby eagle finding flight for the first ever time.  Her soul and spirit came alive in this whole new world.  It was neither that or any other moment in this journey, which she could pinpoint but she definitely, now, felt like she was home.  For, it was in these early hours, of the day, coral pink slivers, of light, peeped from the horizon.  When deep tree filled, valleys shrouded, mysteriously, in thick cloud and light fog.  Like a child, safely tucked up and snuggled comfortably in bed, dreaming indulgently. The sun energetically burst over the eastern horizon; like a loud annoying alarm clock.  It becomes large, bright red and yellow with ferocious, erratic edges, that herald with tremendous force and gusto a new day.  As the sun blazed into day, the clouds and fog began to dissipate from the trees as if a petulant child flings off the bed sheets and bounces out of bed. Currawongs and magpies begin to herald the day in joyful song.   Atop the mountain, a light breeze blows in from the southwest, which moves playfully across the grasses, wrapping itself around each blade drying up the morning dew.  Revitalizing its’ life, again.  The breeze rushes lightly through the trees, caressing their branches, and leaf tips, like a lover.  As the sun and wind tussled with each other Louise’s’ first morning, home, on the mountain   began.

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 The new day dawned- silent, reverent and ethereally magical.   It, entwined itself around her body; like a deliciously warm soothing bear hug.   Tears, salty and damp rolled out the      corners of her eyes and down her face; like tiny rivulets of slow falling rain.  The dull and foggy brain suddenly flung its doors and windows open to savour the beginning of (a new) day.  Soaking up the, ever, brightening sunlight, like leaves unfurling on a tree after a long, lingering winter hibernating.  Emotion, and senses, began to swim and swirl throughout her whole body. 

Slowly, and cautiously, Louise arose from where she had sat. Rob held out his arms and she let them hold her strongly once more.   Rob looked deeply into, the souls of, her eyes,       cupping her face in his warm, strong hands; he tenderly kissed her cold lips, warming them with deep unabiding passion.  As, her heart began to pumped warm, fresh, blood full of hope and love throughout her body, mind and soul.    It cursed throughout her whole being exploding throughout her mind and heart.    His face lit up as that ‘I love you’ smile spread across it.  He, then, softly said those words, with unconditional depth and meaning “Have patience Louise.  I will always love you. ”With his thumb and forefinger, he wiped her drying tears from her glowing red cheeks.

 Rob let his arms run down across her whole body committing it to memory.  Stepping back, from her presence, he took hold of the lead on the black dog - which had sat nearby diligent and patiently.   They walked away into the blinding sunshine.

For Mark

Sitting upright tucked in bed with three pillows at my back

I write, choosing my words to send to you down this electronic track

Whence are you today?

The office?

The road or up on top of mountain range?

Since we met how has your life thus changed?

Have you ever - once- thought of us?

That undeniable moment; of life changing lust

How lightning sparked jagged and struck us blind

Eyes lock deep as you smile - sensuous, soft gentle and kind

Emotions eddy spin, snap, twirl and converge

My heart split open; with a powerful surge

How your strong warm fingers caressed my hand

Enigmatic, words unspoken resonated around

As palms collide, talking, meeting as they shook

Deep into each others souls our eyes did look

Languidly you reach out

 and touch my hair.

Momentarily letting it lay there.

I sense your fingers casually caress my skin

Charging sexual desire lain unbridled within

The mind picture is as real,

As surreal

 of destiny’s way

Remaining strong even to this day.

My heart senses you thinking, impulsively of me.

Wondering when, how, why fate musing

I have begun to grow without thee.

Mark 1

Slowly my eyelids rest softly; closed against the bright sunshine

Autumn breeze brushes delicate against my skin.

Long brown lashes curve, rest gently on the skin below

Inhale...... exhale...... meditative breath becomes slow

Inside my mind the curtains go up and there minds eye screen I see

Moments, a glimpse of time, longer pictures, of the meeting between you and me

Colours, shapes materialize reform, melt and blend finally they converge

Emotions rush through my mind soul and heart a swirling strong surge

 Your face is there, smiling gentle, serious and kind

It saturates my spirit, soul and mind

Long firm fingers tap gently at your side

Are you nervous? Impatient? Or just counting time?

Even now, long time pass by

That moment is still alive.

Unsure it remains so sharp, bright and strong

I am grateful that fate, into my life, you came along.

Pink

Is the color of spiritual things.

It shimmers forth from beyond horizon of a new day sky

Adding lustre to the evening sunsets, its color sings

It signals every moment of when we live, laugh or even cry

Exclamations of love; it is soft, sedate, and sensitive

Soft baby, coral, petunia, cerise, lollypop and fairy floss

Where would flowers and gardens be?                 

 If pink were not there to make them live?

Pink is spiritual, soulful and mediative

Never hard just oh so soft.

LEAVES ON THE GROUND

Leaves toasted coffee brown

Lay jumbled upon the ground

Stems that snap crackle with twigs and branches on top

Twinges of green peak out life begin to stop.

Humming winds, breezes shimmer shake branches up high

Break tinder burnish brown branches, green, and dry

Strong white opaque shreds of peeling layers of bark

Twisting, twirling, and sliding down to die on ground

Decomposing; becoming gnarled and dark.

Animals, miniscule and small create viable worlds.

Hiding, evolving, entry under a leaf curled.

Sky shifting shadowing change blue upon high

‘Til darkness falls then all is quiet

Screams high pitch, blood curdle child like

Foxes meander undercover of the pitch blue-black night

Large eyes of owl traverse the moonlight

Coral pink, tangerine, and yellow tinges break open the sky

A new day begins to the currawong mournful cry

Magpie, Kookaburras songs crescendo through breaking light

Herald the dawning new day from night

Crystal icy dew drops melt; as green leaves turn coffee brown

Falling, dry slowly parachute style onto rusty brown ground.

Louise Kelly