If the world ends today, don't say I didn't tell you so.

Going Up

The curtain’s going up, so let’s
talk about point of view. There
are angels with bird’s eye vision,
everything beneath as gentle and
rolling as quilts sewn by loving
hands. Then there are those who
lie down in the earth and look up.

This is not a good angle. Every
photographer knows not to shoot
women over forty from below. We
live north of forty, on an island,
in a city carved axe, adze and
saw, out of the ancient Rainforest,
the way the Songhees People
made their feast bowls large
enough to feed a whole village.

The best place to watch is from
the highest branches in trees. It
could be flowering cherries from
Morioka, our sister city. It could
be fir, the home of eagles, or the
majestic cedars in Beacon Hill