Reflections

The new light of the early morning struggles through the clouds. On either side of the faded pavement water sits still in the ditches, reflecting the sky. A perfect narrow mirror of the heavens above. The yellow dashes in the middle of the road tick past underneath the car as I drive towards the highway. The dog cries and coughs in the back. I’m simultaneously there in the car loving the beauty around me, there fearing what may happen again, and alone, with the coast range disappearing into the fog behind me, heading east towards the cascades.
Sitting in the little room with the dog I can’t help but sink into the memory of the last time and the cycle of events that were the months following that appointment. I imagine hearing the worst and bolting. Heading for the banks and trees of the McKenzie. I imagine what I will say and who I will say it to. But this is not a reflection of the past. This is now, and this is okay.

The sky is the brilliant dark turquoise right before it turns to night. The hills are dark against the sun's last light. The moon is a clear crescent, like from a story book, and the first daring stars are already shining. It is cold, in shorts I am cold; cold, not uncomfortable. The winter sky is always there when I need it most. All day it rains and is cloudy, the classic non-existent Oregon sky, but on the nights that you need stars, it clears up. It almost looks like summer. In February, when even the seasoned Pacific Northwesterner is getting hits of seasonal depression, when I find myself dreaming of warm summer nights, watching the stars reflecting on the pond, when my day was long and I feel like my problems are huge, the sky will answer me. I will go outside into the dark--- to feed the dogs, to get something from the car--- and there will be millions of stars above me. So many stars so clear that I shrink into nature. Underneath a sky like that, you feel small. It’s almost like standing next to the ocean. And, when you’re so small, your problems get even smaller.
Tonight is one of those nights, after a day of angst and emotions, in the cold dark winter, a summer sky stretches above me. And I reflect it’s peace, it’s wisdom, it’s beauty; but not as well as the ditches do. They’re a never ending mirror of life in the country. Sometimes muddy and rough and sometimes perfectly flat, reflecting a clear night with a starry sky.