morning coffee with Flo - Hornby, 2020
We shared stories and learned each other’s touch.
They were my constant companions, my confidants, and my protectors.
the East Firs Winter 2021
Every morning, I was greeted by three seven-story-tall Coastal Douglas Firs along my east side fence,
straight outside my French doors.
They were always there, arms outstretched to me.
My cat, Flo, and I joined the trees for our morning coffee on the deck. Around 8-10 a.m. in late Spring, the sun broke through the branches that’d held on during the winter storms, casting an amber glow on everything it touched.
me and morning coffee at my cabin on Hornby 2020
I welcomed the sun's warmth on my cheeks as I slumped against the cedar wall of my cabin.
Still in my pyjamas, yet adorned with gum boots and multiple layers of old wool sweaters, I closed my eyes.
I allowed the sun to paint a kaleidoscope of shapes on the canvas of my subconscious while
my palms cradled a handmade mug full of fresh coffee.
The mug’s glaze, inspired by the dark winter rain at Locarno Beach, where I'd sat alone so many times.
Flo taking in the morning air with the trees, sunbeams, some dew and life
The trees watched as the sun combed Flo's dark fur, stirring up dusty dander that sparkled in a cloud around her.
The sun blanketed her in warmth as she sat on the dewy grass, breathing in the coastal morning air.
Her little nostrils flit open and closed, barely keeping up with all the new morning scents.
The sea floor at low tide,
the warming soil,
textured salty air and
the consistent depths of cedar.
The trees twinkled with fairy lights as the sun touched
the syrupy morning dew that hung heavy on the tips of their needles.
Mornings sunbeams in my yard, Hornby
As the sun moved south, it dropped a ladder of sunbeams
between the two cedars at my front gate.
The arms of the trees held strong as I climbed the glowing steps to the opaque pale blue sky.
I climbed past the dew-jewelled crowns of the tree tops
to seek answers to questions that had no words.
I had faith in my existence and allowed myself to break apart.
I scattered myself amongst the palest blue with the hope of being found and
put back together
— with answers to questions that had no words.
morning deck
I felt the essence of the trees and my cat's love reach out to me. I climbed back down the ladder of sunbeams before it disappeared, curious about what would happen if I chose not to.
Returning to the consistency of unconditional love and the comfort of the trees' embrace, it was time for my
second cup of coffee.
Flo on the dewy morning grass, Hornby 2020
