The Reclaiming

 

Hurricane Iota hit Honduras the week my son and I returned from the U.S. after a long evacuation. Eight months of creating a home away from home, where there was love and green space and freedom, but without my husband, without a sense of normal, and not knowing when we’d be reunited.

The night we landed in Tegucigalpa, there was wind and torrential rain, but also peace: we were together. The roof leaked in several places, like tears running down the walls. Walls I had not lived in for quite some time, within which I could not find things. Where is the pasta strainer?

I opened drawers and cabinets, rearranged furniture. I put on my favorite fuzzy socks, straightened books, and washed blankets, seeking coziness and order. Re-establishing my presence, reclaiming space here.

Tracita! Bienvenida!” said the store clerk I hadn’t seen since winter. “Donde esta?” she inquired with wide eyes behind thick glasses. The answer felt too big to fit in my mouth, so I said simply, “Away, but I’m here now.”

On the first day of sun, I gathered groceries. I cooked all morning, stacking copper pots in the sink, stocking the fridge with nourishing food. It felt healing and made the house smell good. I missed those copper pots, missed cooking in my kitchen.

We set the table, lit candles, and fostered togetherness, not taking it for granted. Unity. Connection. Hugs. Cocooning ourselves; not hard to do in an era of Covid, but now welcome.

There are a few things I had forgotten about living here:

  • the need to gird my loins while avoiding errant mopeds on the road
  • don’t drink the tap water
  • fireworks-loud ones, late at night
  • how fortified the city is with its high walls with barbed wire

And yet so many things to love:

  • morning coffee and conversation on the patio
  • rediscovering our belongings and creative spaces
  • the palm tree and hummingbird in our garden
  • roadside tiendas selling vibrant flowers, fresh pineapples, and avocados
  • how good it feels to sit at my desk, surrounded by writing instruments, books, and journals

 

….and a million little things about home that hold my heart.

 Love & Light, 

“Tracita” (little Tracy).

 

 

 

 

 

Sunshine for the Soul

Almost to the beach!

Driving through a state park

Road trip to Virginia Beach for my first art retreat!  Had to put my toes in the water before checking into the hotel:

As I was walking on the beach, I was reminded of an Old Irish Blessing-

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face…

It feels primal, beach combing. Like being an archeologist, searching for treasures on the shore among the scattered array of pebbles, pieces of shell, the occasional piece of sea glass, or feather.

A wet leaf with many tones of green and brown made it look like it was trying to experience all 4 seasons at once.  Twigs and branches were artfully arranged, casting long shadows. I kept turning around to head back, but was propelled further down the beach, drawn in by colors in a shell, or a wave bringing new patches of things to investigate.  The brilliance of the sun’s shimmering path on the water was mesmerizing.  My gaze studied the horizon line where sky melded into the sea, and I stood for a long while to soak up the calm. The ocean always feels like coming home. Can’t get this in the city!