Friday, April 27, 2007

us, year one


I.

I want to say so much, but I don't know where to start.

About screaming through a gritted smile, hurtling headlong down a tropical road on a clunky, lurching scooter. About the sunset view from the pineapple fields, as seen from behind the chestnut withers of Mr. Kurt Russell. About the insouciant butteriness of fresh-caught ahi, perched on a pillow of coconut rice. About following your flippers into a sea full of laughing spinner dolphins and pufferfish and humuhumunukunukuapua'a. About waiting to see our souls, but getting to see much more. About the mysterious appearence of the Dalai Lama. About baby goats.

I can't organize it. It should have been done daily, and wasn't (happily, my time was absorbed in other pursuits), and so this is all left to the diary written succinctly by my tan lines, my paltry collection of snapshots, and my bank statement. That's okay with me.

II.

It's Arbor Day. That means that it's been a year - I've learned so much, and we've grown so much, and again I hardly recognize myself upon reflection.

So we plant our tree - the first of a great, great many - and push on into the next year, and the next, and the next.

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