SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
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Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Tuesday, Sept. 07, 2004 @ 7:46 pm
Mayne Island



Tree Frog and Cedar, Mayne Island

I found my island boy.

I knew that the orchids would lead me to my answer. I knew that I'd find it in the Gulf Islands too. My heart entwined in the tangled kelp forests; my heart as red as the bark of the Arbutus. In the shadow of the lighthouse, the sandstone warm beneath us, the ferries sail through Active Pass, and the sounding of their horns echo longingly and lonely off the shoulder of Mount Galiano.

It used to be like that on the ferry. I'd stand alone at the bow or the stern and watch the horizon, watch the islands fade in gradients of blue. Now it is all the opposite. Together we watch it all scroll past, tucked together, protecting each other from the buffeting salty wind.

The orchids appeared beside our tent, among the cedars on Mayne Island. The Rattlesnake Plantain. Love Potion #3. Orchids I breathed. I could feel the diffusion of orchid through the tent as we slept. He'd wake and reach over to touch my face. One night there were rustling noises outside the tent. He guessed raccoons or coyotes, and I murmured agreement but imagined those leathery leaves gathering up their roots and traipsing off into the night to bring others together to love one another.

Monday morning the magic multiplied. One green tree frog centered on the cedar above the orchids. I held him and kissed him and he leapt from my hand, away across the springy cedar-covered forest floor. Leap frog, he turned into a prince.

Me and Prince


Roots | Shoots