For the Love of Dirt: TELLER of STORIES

Wednesday, March 23, 2022

TELLER of STORIES

"Believe in the Unbelievable..." - Natalie Nascenzi

It’s been a long time since I saw you stand by the ocean. In a storm. And you turned your face to the wind. The spray. The brine. Never flinching. Knowing that your time was coming. Knowing that you loved to be by crashing waves more than anything. You Teller of stories.

You who believed we were seagulls driving into the wind. Looking for giant squid. Though what would a seagull do with a squid, I thought? You imagined a whale. And one day, he appeared. Close to shore. You spoke to him and he waved back.

You taught me the sky, the mist and the sea all were one big canvas. You used to pretend to carve pictures in the fog, as it lay thick on the shore. Like a magician you would turn it into cakes.

We would gather wet, smooth rocks , pile them into your pockets, till you could barely walk. Then dump them out on the rocky sand and build towers, only to watch crested waves bury our fortresses, as if they were sunken cathedrals.

Once you saw hummingbirds nesting at our old cabin. You said they were fairies from the old country. Come to live with us. We saw swallows called up on the wind. You would hold my hand in yours , as they soared above. You said I could do anything. Anything.

I remember how you told me the seas could sing through the power poles. We’d listen for their song. Our ears against the salt damaged wood. I was always afraid of termites crawling around in my ears.

Then there was the sound of humming , roaring, swooshing , battling to be first. Scaring off the termites, in my mind. We tried each time we came to the cabin. It only worked on stormy days.

It’s been a long time since I’ve heard the call of the sea. Years later, I tried to listen once more. Somehow, when I have tried to hear it, it has eluded me. Then in that moment, I could hear it again. I thought of you.

Some days I wonder where you are, when I walk that fallen place. It whispers my name, and I hear you, you Teller of Stories.

I can see you standing on the shore. By the ocean’s edge. On those slippery logs. In the crackle of white surf, as it piles up like meringue on pies.

It’s been a long time, since I heard the story of how I was once a mermaid and could swim in the sea with the fish. That was always strange…..how in the world could I have been a mermaid, cause I was terrified of the ocean? I did not like even putting my feet in the water.

You told me to have no fear. That I could do anything…..you often tried to hang me over the water…. I would scream like a banshee as you swung me around.

You stood up to the wind and let it pommel you. Even though you knew your time had come. We stood together. Like pirates on our big, scary ship, cannons to the right of us, cannons to the left. We always vanquished our foes. Even though it was just the seaweed. Or the rocks.

After a while, the storm raged a little less. We had won our battles. The ocean calmed till it was grey, like the skies. We still listened at the power pole. It hummed “ Lullay lullay lu lye…..”