Louisa Kelley

Fantastical Tales of Uncommon Romance

The August morning sun was rising in the east just behind the trees and the sweet sight of it, along with the promise of a breeze, lured me out of the over-heated house. Following a muse of some sort, I walked toward the river, making my way to a new community garden area atop a small hill with a view of the river and the west banks of Portland. To the north the sun’s rays had already lightened downtown buildings, glimmering and sparking, but near me, to the south, the cool shadows still held. I breathed in the summer morning air and felt blessed and content.

After awhile, I ambled through the neighborhood on a familiar journey, noting shades and curtains tightly drawn against yesterday’s heat and here and there windows open like they never are in the winter. Soon, I know, the breeze will end and heat will settle like a heavy blanket over metro Portland. I revel in this blaze of summer sun; longed for and dreaded both the year long. It won’t last, I tell myself. Just a few days, a few weeks and then we’ll be back to the cool and dim light.

For breakfast I feasted on ripe organic melon that tasted like ambrosia and summer, and munched onĀ  crunchy salted cashews. Perfect. I am, most wonderfully, Here and Now. Reminded that this is all there is. Each moment, strung together, creates an entire life…My writing muse explodes with these thoughts and I can hardly wait to get back to my shape-shifting dragons and the women who love them.