Summer Wind

Summer wind flows across the land
And cherries are picked by a farmer's hand
Winter frosts appear in the sky
And trees that blossom, slowly die

But spring a healer of snow drops and rain
And beauty comes back again
Fall sweeps in with cool night air
And leaves of red, yellow, and amber

Round and round the seasons change
In colors of yellow, blue, white, and brown
Rising, falling
Rising, falling

--ER

 

Drowning

I was standing on the dock with my friends, their mom, my mom, and my sister. The dock was icy and the farther you got, the icier it got. My friends cheered me on, saying, "It get's harder than this, look at me!" So against my instincts, I took a step forward. Then I felt myself slipping, as if the borders of the sides of the dock had suddenly disappeared, and my feet were moving against my will and I couldn't control them. And BOOM!, I was in the water.

For a second, I was fine, then I froze. It was the most terrifying moment of my life, as if my lungs were closing up, refusing to swallow air. I couldn't move, partly because of the cold, and partly because I was scarred. I could feel myself sinking.

Somewhere off in the distance, I could hear my mom jumping in to save me. I was drowning...in what, bed covers?

I'd had this dream before. I was awake, but I still felt like I was drowning. Even now, as I write, my hands are shaking.

My dad had talked about this before, but I had discounted it, thinking, "What, I could swim, it's my body, right?" No. I know understood exactly what he meant.

--ER

Away

Far away...where sheep graze and on nights where everything is quiet, a whisper could be heard a mile away, you might hear a wolf howl or an owl hoot. Beyond the hills, rocks jut out from the sand and in the afternoon, waves crash against them with such force you wonder how many people have died on so many of those so seemingly peaceful days. But in the evening, the sun set streaks across the water, turning it pink and seagulls fly across the water, screeching their countless unmeaningful calls that only the wind can understand. And you want to stay there forever.

--ER

 

BC SPCA

Very cute dog.

BC SPCA, ever heard of it? Also known as Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals and where we are, Britsh Columbia, is for the BC. So anyway, my sister loves dogs. When we were still in Mexico, La Paz, she did a fundraiser and raised more than $100 for a small animal shelter in a almost uninhabited desert in Mexico. The place was called Baja Dogs, or Dogs of La Paz.

Now in Canada, she wants to do one for the SPCA. The original plan was for it to be a bake sale, but then we had other ideas. Frances found a magazine about the SPCA and it showed other kids that had raised money for the SPCA. In it, some other kids had painted rocks and sold them, and Frances thought that was a good idea and so the next time we went to the park, she brought a plastic back and collected rocks along the way. Finally, she brought home 21 rocks and we painted them.

I painted a ladybug, a rock that said, "Dogs Rock" on it, a rock that I painted green (and was supposed to be a frog, but after I was done painting it green and was starting to paint the outline of its legs and face, I learned the hard way that I was really bad at painting frogs, so I wiped the black away with a paper towel and turned it into a leaf with a caterpillar on it), a bee, a pink rock with a heart on it, a ray, and I still have two rocks to paint. Frances painted a dog, another dog, a smiley face, a pink rock, a rock that says, "Love" on it, a rock that says, "Happy" on it, a butterfly, and a spotted rock. And my mom painted a walrus.

Frances also make little yarn chains to sell. This morning, we went to a restaurant that hadn't opened yet, but was doing a practice day and all the money went to the SPCA.

We visited the SPCA just to see the animals and know where our money was going.

--ER

Stuff that Franny and I made.

 

World Travel

Del Viento about to sail under
Golden Gate Bridge

You know some of those ideas that just pop out of the middle of nowhere, and you don't know where they come from? That's how it was with this poem for me. It came up to me, shook my hand, and then I started writing.

World Travel

I fly away
I come back home
I meet you there
I meet alone

I learn new things
I read, I play
I take pictures
To hold the day

Time goes by
The seasons flee
And once again
I am free

I run there
I live there
And then I go

--ER

Frances protecting baby harbor seals near Half Moon Bay, California

My parents walking along the railway in Astoria

Christmas Aboard

British Columbia's parliament
building, right next to our boat.

Four stockings hanging on a bungy cord, tied on one end to the mast and the other tied to a light sticking out of the wall. Well, it's not your usual "the stockings were hung by the chimney with care." This would be my second Christmas aboard, and still no snow. Our first Christmas (here on the boat) was in Mexico (where it seemed like the middle of summer) and our second was here in Canada and just rain.

Do we have a Christmas tree? Yes. It is just about two feet tall and this year we bought little tiny lights for it. Our family is tradition is...well, I don't know what. When we lived in the house, we used to open some of our presents under the tree (which then reached up to the ceiling, which was pretty high up there since we lived in a house) and save some for the morning. And then other times we would just open all of the presents on Christmas Eve, then figure the presents from Santa would be enough till the next year. I forget what we did last year and this time we were supposed to open some of the presents on Christmas Eve. After dinner, we started opening presents until we realized we had just opened the last one.

And as far as traveling for Christmas goes (and if you don't count living on a boat traveling all over the world all the time), I've only gone somewhere for Christmas once, to my great grandma's house. So I guess I want to talk more about this Christmas, but there really isn't much to talk about.

--ER

My sister being silly on the baby swing.

Even the trash cans in Victoria are fancy.

Welcome to Victoria!

Wild peacock

It's a relief to get here. There are horses and buggies and a beautiful park with wild peacocks. And you can find nuts and feed them to squirrels who will come and eat out of your hands. My mom drinks coffee almost every morning, but she still hasn't found "her" coffee shop. There is a garden that is public so you can plant stuff there, but we haven't planted anything.

--ER











Horse-drawn carriage in front of Empress