Dawn's Awakening

July 10, 2013

The Lake

This was an exercise for the PnP Authors. We were to:

Write a story without using ‘I’ or ‘you’.
Use the following words: faith, window, cane, meadow, lake, character, love.

The rest was up to us. In my story, the meadow is assumed.



The Lake


The Saturday morning arrived with a fanfare of birdsong and the golden sunrise outside his open bedroom window of the summer cottage. This cottage was weatherbeaten, but it had character. White, cotton, curtains billowed playfully in the yellow glow. Jake smiled happily as he took in the beautiful scene from the bed. He sat up with back against the headboard. The light splashed across his legs under the sheet. Wiggling toes made the shadows dance with the sunlight. Magical! Made him feel like a boy again.

He gave a mighty stretch to chase away the stiffness from the night. Charlie horse tried to tense up his thigh making him wince. Nope, old boy, you ain’t as young as you think. Jake massaged the area, and reminded himself to take his meds. Grabbing his cane which leaned against the nightstand, Jake pulled himself up and started the morning trek to the bathroom.

After morning meds and a quick shower, the next stop was the kitchen. In the refrigerator, he had prepared a breakfast of yogurt and fruit the night before. It was in a paper sack waiting for him. The sack went into the top of his knapsack, and out the door he went.

The stairs from the porch to the path took a little bit of time. He was still getting used to maneuvering with a cane. Once to the path, he wandered down to the lake. Taking in the sights and sounds of a new morning, he was grateful to be right here right now. A duck glided in from over an oak tree across the way. It lit gracefully onto the lake. The wind had stilled, and the lake was like a sheet of glass. It reflected everything perfectly.

Jake made it to his destination. It was an old wrought iron and mahogany bench someone had placed here long ago. This was where he came to think and meditate. No phones to bother him. No kids to stop by. No intrusions. It was exactly what he needed.

He laid his knapsack on the left side of the bench. Then, he eased himself gently down onto it. Sighing, Jake looked all around like a child on Christmas Day. Everything seemed fresh and new, even though he had been here many times over the years. The difference was the changes in his life. His wife, Martha, of 50 years suddenly died of a heart attack six months ago. His world went dark then. Took a while to regain his step after that. His oldest daughter, Sherry, had been a big help. She was such a comfort.

Then, his business closed because of the bad economy. The accountant had told him it was better to shut the doors and retire. He would be able to make ends meet that way. Grudgingly he agreed, and went through the process of becoming a private citizen and not a boss. In a way, Jake was relieved. It was a heavy load to take care of his employees and customers.

Now, he was free. Whatever he wanted to do whenever he wanted to do it was just fine. He couldn’t be extravagant, but he was content. That made all the difference.

Taking out his breakfast, Jake said a silent grace, and partook. When the last bit of banana was eaten, he cleaned up the remains and placed them in the paper bag.

His old bible came out next. Different passages came to mind. He read about Daniel in the lion’s den. Then he read about Ruth and Jonah. These were friends of his. Of course, Jake ended with the Beatitudes. He knew that Jesus was looking over his shoulder as he read. With a fervent prayer, he lovingly closed the book.

A memory of Martha at the lake played out in his head. He saw her picking wildflowers, and coming to sit by him on this bench. That was a wonderful vacation. It would always be precious to him. He missed her, but it didn’t seem to hurt so much as it once did. Jake blew a kiss to heaven for her. His love would never end.

Jake knew that one day he would join her. That didn’t really bother him much. His faith in Jesus would guide him home to Him, and he would be with her again. What a joyful day that would be!

The hours ticked gently by. Soon it was noon, and he needed a nap after lunch. Bending down, he grabbed his cane from the path. He balanced with it until he was standing. Then off he went to the little summer cottage by the lake.

2013 © Dawn L. Huffaker
All rights reserved.

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And I Cry

As of the writing of this, the Silver Fire was over 125,000 acres. That part of the forest will never be the same in my lifetime.



And I Cry


Had a doctor’s appointment today.
When we left the house in our minivan,
The smoke from the Silver Fire was coming back in.
It was thick and choking out the sun.
Not a pretty sight to behold.

Ninety minutes after the appointment,
We loaded back up for our climb back into the mountains
And home.
The smoke had dropped down from up high.
It was like a puma that had pounced on its prey.
Smoke slithered among the trees.

We stopped at our mailbox on a post,
The smoke was stale on the air that crept in.
I watched bits of ash glide to the ground.
They seemed to make the fire in the distance
More real. More deadly. More final.
This fire should not be happening!

I became sad when we got in the house.
Had to close the windows to shut the smoke out.
I pondered the meaning of all this.
It had been so very dry.
Why does the Forest Service wait so long to act?
Do they not realize the damage that they have caused?

And I cry for the stately trees lost to the flames.
And I cry for the unique habitats destroyed by man’s ineptness.
And I cry for the terrified animals attempting to escape.
And I cry for the evacuated citizens shaken and fearful.
And I cry for the future generations who will never see the beauty that it once was.
And I cry for the hurting planet which works to heal itself no thanks to us.

2013 © Dawn L. Huffaker
All rights reserved.
.

July 1, 2013

Ancient Whispers

Ancient Whispers

Footsteps crunch on Aspen leaves-
Newly fallen to the forest floor.
Rhythm becomes a meditation mantra.
Thoughts flow lazily like a stream.
Eyes peer upward to see
Golden yellow coins dangling from
Bright white tree limbs.
Cold breeze brushes by.
Another wave of leaves
Say goodbye to summer
In ancient whispers,
As they release their hold.
Silence then takes their place.
The New Mexico blue, autumn sky
Becomes the backdrop
For this mesmerizing scene.

Pausing a while
To take it all in.
Realizing the blessing given
To be right here, right now-
Witnessing autumn preparing
The trees for winter sleep.
Awe stills all thought.
Listening to the whispers.
Watching leaves tumble
Gracefully to the ground.
Magical!

Time grows late.
Must be heading on.
Footsteps crunch on Aspen leaves
Newly fallen to the ground.
Climbing to the fire lookout
Another hour or so from here.
Living minimally this weekend.
Backpack carries my camp
On this hike up Signal Peak,
Gila National Forest.

2013 © Dawn L. Huffaker
All rights reserved.

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