I'm an ambiverted, highly sensitive writer who loves to learn about psychology, sustainability, culture, and healthy living. When I'm not writing, I'm teaching Spanish, reading a non-fiction book, practicing yoga, or researching :D
Bonnie and the Wolves
Mother always told me to beware of the barn owl. You see, in my old-school Anglican family, belief in animal symbolism rivals that of the pagans they claim to have spiritually superseded. A hummingbird means a happy day, and the sight of a bat leads to a two-hour interrogation from my parents about where I’ve been that week. I didn’t question it much growing up, probably because I didn’t know what Ms. Durham the front desk receptionist meant when she called my parents nuts for picking me up early whenever they received a bad omen (in my defense, they do have arguably almond-shaped faces and a last name to match!).
The Olive Tree and the River
The soft sound of rushing water fills my ears as I take one last look toward the River Erne. I see a man in overalls and a long-sleeved red shirt standing knee-deep in the water with a fishing hook in hand, but other than that, she is empty and at peace. A small part of me yearns to run across the street and through the bushes to lay flat upon the river surface one more time, but I am already bundled up in my fleece sweater and the wool jacket Gráinne gifted me as a good-bye present.
Drop the Ball
Dimmed lights from my grandmother’s small Christmas tree. The crunch of Snyder’s pretzel sticks between my teeth. Muted screams emitting from the voices of pedestrians packed into Times Square through the television, juxtaposed by our family’s quiet round of Apples to Apples on the large floral rug. These were the sensory indicators of New Year’s Eve growing up, when my three-generation trio—my mother, grandmother, and me—would come together, forgo dinner for snacks, and spend the night splitting our attention between board games and the four stations broadcasting live from New York City. After the ball drop signaled the East Coast New Year and my family went to bed, I would spend the last two hours until Arizona’s New Year alone in my room, dreaming up the possibilities of new beginnings from underneath the silk comforter in my grandmother’s guest bedroom.