Never want for wonder

A crab is stalking around the tank, pincers raised, ready for action. He sees me nearby and threatens me, but when I touch the glass at his face, he looks at my fingertip for a moment, then realizes it's bigger than his pincers. And off he scuttles, to hide under a clamshell.

Laurie would have laughed.

But he's gone. He died Saturday night. He won't laugh at my critters, nor watch his garden bloom. He won't be bringing me spiders in pill bottles. He won't be taking more photos of Mount Baker across the water, or peering into tidepools, or leading parades of hungry mallards at Reifel Island. Or rousting me out of my morning doldrums to "go a-jaunting."

Hey luv     let us go a-jaunting    o
        when the red-cheeked sun
in her walking-out attire
        rises laughing over the horizon
scooting by watchful hawk and eagle
        down to the jaunty seagull's hangout
rocky shore    sandy beach    weedy marge
        where tireless tide's urge to push and pull
from bygone sagacity rules
        poseidon's fishy realm and aphrodite's foamy origin
where awareness begat sentiency
yes    our home too: briny and ozone
        whose thriving presence invigorates
while we alert and observant    poke and peer
        thrilled    and often chilled    never want for wonder
for this is a force beholden to no-one
        and like love    provides and demands
generous and severe

(One of his poems, mmix)

Always looking onward. He didn't face the camera often.

And when he did, he was usually clowning.

I have been touched and comforted by the messages you have sent me, here, on Facebook, on Twitter, and in "meat space" with letters and hugs and a card shoved under my door tonight. Thank you all!

While Laurie was still with me, I passed on your messages to him. He didn't say much; he was beyond much talking, but he smiled.

Same scene, new day

There comes a day, after a rough spell when life has been a struggle, that I look out and discover that the world is new again, that the birds still sing, and the sun still shines.

Today was that day. Laurie is stronger. The skies were blue, the breeze warm. I got Laurie into a wheelchair and took him across the hospital campus to sit in the sunshine and watch the clouds.

Same scene as last post, from the same hospital window. 4:30 PM, with a hint of orange as the sun goes down behind us. 

I haven't been feeding the birds for the past couple of weeks, and they've been foraging elsewhere. But I stepped outside to re-acquaint myself with the garden this morning, and after a minute, heard a "cheep"*, looked up, and found three chickadees already waiting for their goodies. They must have been keeping a watch.

*It was a "cheep", not the usual half-scolding "dee-dee-dee" that the chickadees usually say. More of a question; "Are you back?" Yes, I'm back.

Thank you to all of you who have sent good thoughts and encouraging words our way. It has really helped to know people care.

Laurie is to have surgery on Thursday; a feeding tube installed to replace his defunct esophagus. Then there will be a few days of recovery, and he can come home, in time to catch the first crocuses in the garden.

A Skywatch post.