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Whispers

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Road trip to the Northeast Kingdom in Vermont

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We visited the National Fish & Wildlife refuge in Essex County Vermont over the weekend, and hiked along the Nulhegan River Trail. Over the rustic one-mile path we strolled up and down through black spruce woodland and trudged over lichen covered natural stone steps and shrubby peatland. Interspersed wooden bog bridges above clear flowing streams of cold water to refresh in. The over flowing river rushed on by as white caps sparkled under the hot summer sun. At the very end of the trail a steep slop covered in pine needles lead us on to a lovely small bog surrounded by wildflowers.

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Paw prints left behind

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IN MEMORY OF MY BOY CHACHI

My boy Chachi, more than a friend who sat aside as loved ones passed on one by one, concerned with the sadness of the humans broken heart. Then there was the night I discovered a lump on my breast when I came out of the bathroom his small muscular body sat outside the bathroom door. He followed me into the studio where he sat next to my chair with a chilling stare of somber expression. Amazingly, his inherent inclination knew his momma was down with cancer. Alone, it was our secret throughout the weekend not telling a soul about the lump. I leaned down to pick him up and held him close to my chest cuddled him tight to let him know everything would be okay. He buried his warm snout into the hairline of my neck and licked away as canines do to heal their own wound. This was Chachis’ way of letting me know –– I see you, I hear you, I am here with you, you are not alone. Cleansing my heart and soul as he always had in my darkest moments he was my comfort.

A little anecdote I’ve always said,”Chachi, was the only man that ever really loved me unconditionally.”

Until, I would sing out to him, “Who loves the Chachie, mama mama!”

He could not run fast enough in opposite direction away from me. On days, I needed my space and he was a bit clingy I always knew how to claim my space back.

After my breast cancer gig he had stopped sleeping at the bottom of the bed and moved up to the top curled around my head. I would say, “Where’s that fat belly mama loves.” He would wildly roll over and I would rub his smooth as felt belly to sleep. When, my husband would approach me with a hug or kiss you would hear my little guys muffled warning of protective jealousy –– grrrrr.

A year ago on the morning of May 29th, my boy Chachi passed on to the Rainbow Bridge, snuggled between my belly and bended knees.

I do believe his spirit still lingers here at home, with serendipity in play this past Mother’s Day my husband was searching for a particular video of an old project he had worked on, when he inserted the film into the camera to view the project, whom do you suppose was filmed at the end of the video? You got it my boy Chachi!

Oh, how my heartaches for this little guy he was a blessed gift and brought so much love and joy into my world.

MY BOY CHACHI

Chachi’s burial site in the backyard

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simple gift of earth to its bounty

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” Study nature
love nature
stay close to nature
it will never fail you”

– Frank Lloyd Wright

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mystical soul

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On a photo walk back in early fall I came upon this turquois chair on the side of country dirt road, and down the embankment a hand built bridge crossed over a babbling brook. Like, a welcome mat of sorts, intrigued I walked over the bridge where broken cobalt blue bottles strung from rusty chains. Up the embankment, a shack nested in overgrown brush.

Immense curiosity over came me as I wondered of the mystical soul who dwells in behind the mysterious chipped blue door, with a plethora of eclectic art hanged down its rustic boards.

There is something magical in the beauty of weathered dwellings though utterly creepy in character they inspire intrigue full of mystery of the unknown spirits who once were or are still occupants.

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The Pink Fairy

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Sitting on the edge of the murky canal my dark reflection mirrored back at me.
A Fairy Angel from heaven circle around me,
shining pure her paper-thin wings beam into prayer in spiritual meditation.

A healing beauty of faith and trust kneads the pinkish purple scares mapped upon my chest,
her pink souls soft touch
shower down a sprinkling swirl of holy water.

Open arms reach out to the sunburst of rippled warm air,
shooting stars rain down
a rhapsody of healing praise.

***I watched her fly around me with sense of a blessing, a sign, as I’m a 4yr. breast cancer survivor and October is breast cancer awareness month. Serendipity at it’s finest!!

Inspired by Liz Lamoreux: More Poeming it Out

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