For those of you who have followed me through this series, I’m so grateful. But what makes me happy is that you’ve enjoyed the journey with Clay the Camper van at our favorite lake in the Sierra Mountains. I’m sure you can tell that each piece of writing is different from the last because I don’t want your eyes glazing over from repetition. 😁 And if you’ve missed the prior posts, you can click below:
On one of our hikes, as I made myself comfortable on a smooth slab of granite (Part 3), I fell deep into a lovely reflection about the man who I’m sharing this camper van journey with, not to mention, the phenomenal journey of life. And so, the poem below evolved. I hope you enjoythis touch of romance for a Monday…
Stunning marriage of lake and clouds.
Marinate
Let my words marinate… Did you feel unworthy of being loved? Maybe I felt the same. Perhaps, everyone does at some turn of the sun and waxing of the moon.
But you, my love, are deserving of all constellations. I’d reach high in the velvet sky and gently cup the brilliance in my hands, devoting all to you. The light in you coupled with their luminescence would be a spectacular collaboration.
We are not perfect. We are imperfectly perfect for each other. We ‘see’ each other. Never are we dismissed by words or actions. Never are we invisible like shade in the night.
Did you realize that together we have witnessed 13,140 sunrises and sunsets? It’s wild to envision the abundance of colors in our life!
Oh, gray managed to seep into some chapters, but our arms saved each of us from falling and surrendering. Why give darkness the spotlight when the light wishes to shine?
So, let my words marinate… I love you! Our love is as timeless as the pairing of wine and cheese. And I’m excited to witness by your side the wonder of more magic from the sun!
For with you, I have everything I need. I have no need to look beyond. For with you, I have won the golden ticket. ❤️
I hope you all had a great week and are doing well!We had a wonderful time in the wilderness, and in such a beautiful area, I became so inspired that ideas for poems and stories flooded in. I couldn’t write them down in my journal fast enough. This is why I thought it would be fun to create a series of posts about our trip. I’ll share my writing and add some photos. I’m not sure how many ‘parts’ will comprise this series. I’ll let it happen organically. So, below is a short story I wrote to kick off this string of posts, and I hope you enjoy!
Three Nights in a Van
She told my husband and I that it was a queen mattress, but it sure looked like a queen wannabe. We didn’t think it would result in a restful night’s sleep for either of us, but we were pleasantly surprised to snuggle into each other and fit more comfortably than sardines in a can! What an illusion!
For over three decades, we’ve pitched tents, used pit toilets (reluctantly), carried packs on our backs, and dug holes for when mother nature called. Now in our seventh decade, we’ve seen many camper vans on the road, instantly intriguing us.
What if we could pull into our campsite in the great outdoors, knowing that our wilderness home was already set up?
The concept of not having to loop or hook tent poles, hoping the tent would pop up like magic, admittedly, entertained the wheels turning in our minds.
So, after numerous conversations and the right time presenting itself, we finally did it! Just last week, our new adventure in the Sierra Mountains began in a rented Mercedes Benz Sprinter van named Clay. That’s right, the owner names his rental vans, and we chose Clay for the best layout. The name not only fit because of its light tan color, but its earthy tone blended in perfectly with the organic earth, granite, lake, and pine trees – the landscape that called us.
Clay, the camper van!
For our first experience, we agreed that three nights and four days would be long enough to become initiated into this somewhat nomad lifestyle. As we began packing, storage was not a problem in Clay. In fact, it was like entering into a huge walk-in closet! Ample space for all of the gear we wanted to bring with room to spare!
The driver and passenger seats swiveled for a living room effect, and a table could be set up in between. These features were appreciated when on one day, Mother Nature became irritable tossing around 40-50 mph winds. Besides hiking around camp and the surrounding forested area, we planned to spend time sitting at the picnic table or in our camp chairs on the shore of the stunning lake. Reading books and magazines, writing in my journal, and playing card games were on our agenda. Well, the gusts wouldn’t allow us to partake in any of these relaxing activities. Pages in books would flip faster than we could read, and cards would take flight with the birds!
Cheers!
Despite the unexpected (always expect the unexpected in the mountains), a great option was to utilize the van. So, we were in and out of Clay for the entire day with occasional hikes to stretch our legs and move our bodies. Being sequestered in the van, though, was more comfortable than being stuck in the tent sitting on the bed. When happy hour arrived, we enjoyed the shelter from the gusts while sipping Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. And the high point was when my husband looked at me and said, “Honey, just being with you is a pleasure.” Even after thirty-five years, he’s still got it!
Let’s backpedal a bit…the day we toured the van was the day we decided to rent it. Spontaneity at its finest! We went home and completed the online application and paid the fees. A few hours later, we returned to pick up Clay. The woman who gave us the tour, provided a crash course on the technology inside the van and placed the key fob in my husband’s hand. Did I mention ‘crash course?’ A variety of buttons for this and that! But her instructions were logical, and our memories kicked in with success.
Clay came with an inside shower and sink for running water. Both great features, especially the shower, even when we’re able to swim in fresh water. Oh, the comforts of home while camping!
Our cozy wine bar!
Decades ago, when we began camping together, cell phones didn’t exist. Of course, nowadays cell phones may as well be another limb! And yet, when we embark into the wilderness, whether with a tent or a camper van, we look forward to unplugging. The only music we enjoy listening to are the melodies of nature: birdsong, and caws and hoots from high in the pines! We set foot on the trail, soaking in the scenery, submerging ourselves in the refreshing lake water, letting our minds engage into compelling paperbacks, while simply enjoying the quietude and each other’s company. However, cell phones come in handy for taking photos, keeping family updated, and in the event of an emergency. Luckily, an emergency didn’t occur, and we brought our Spot satellite as a backup. Smart to be prepared!
See what I mean? Gorgeous! Morning hike and look what we found!
A side note about soaking up the scenery…while reveling in that first cup of coffee one morning, my husband looked up at the nearest pine and saw something big! Was it a bear? After our eyes zeroed in, the white face of a bald eagle came into focus! We were amazed! We had never been so close to a bird of this majesty! I managed to get a few photos, but you’ll have to look closely. Seconds later, it took off in flight with a wingspan of around seven feet. I tried to capture the moment, but my fingers couldn’t move fast enough. So, we watched as it faded in the distance. What a memorable sighting!
This beauty is sitting near the trunk towards the top! Look for its white face!
When the last day arrived and our gear was packed in the van, our bodies and souls thanked us, feeling rested and revitalized. Clay, the camper van, had done a fantastic job of delivering an adventure and experience full of beauty, ruggedness, comfort, and good company.
Do you ever get tired of sunsets?We met some friendly campers.
Spending time in the mountains offers a sense of freedom from the debris in our minds, allowing tranquil moments to fill up the days and evenings. The stunning sunrises and sunsets made perfect bookends from the moment we sipped our good morning coffee to when our heads touched our soft pillows.
Reflection…
We look forward to getting on the road again, waking to the beautiful sun rising over the mountains, hiking the trails, dipping more than our toes in the magic of the lake, and witnessing the spectacular moon in the darkened sky as she bids us a peaceful ‘Good night.’
Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed the Sierra Mountains through my words and photos. Stay tuned for Part 2! I look forward to reading your posts again, too! ~ Lauren ❤️
I’m thrilled and honored that my interview at Gobblers by Masticadores is Live today! A big thanks to Manuela for this wonderful opportunity, and for gifting me the chance to become a monthly contributor of such a talented and warm community. Please visit Gobblers to read the full interview, and to show appreciation on this lovely site! Thank you so much! 💖
Dear Friends, it’s hard to believe that this blogging break has turned into a month already. I thought I’d be gone for a couple of weeks. But the truth is that a roofing project has turned into a noisy, costly, and stressful nightmare. And during this time, Copper (our lovable lab) got really sick with gastroenteritis. It’s never easy to watch our furry family members suffer. But he’s finally back to his normal chipper self, off of his bland chicken and rice meals, and onto his regular food. I haven’t felt like cooking, so I’ve cooked more for him than for us!
Then my husband came down with the flu, but luckily, he’s on the mend. And lastly, a few days ago, a heat wave entered into the equation and it’s been disgustingly hot. Most homes in our area don’t have air conditioning like us, but we do have a portable ac unit which helps. Sanctuary defined! Still, this hot spell is unprecedented to continue on until 11 pm next Wednesday. Yuck!
As to writing, I’ve written very little. My mind has been preoccupied, so I hope my muse will return soon. On a more positive note, a couple weeks ago, we went to my nephew’s wedding in the Santa Cruz mountains. We had a blast and it was a gorgeous setting in the company of majestic redwoods.
My sleeping puppy (almost 14 years old)
I have missed you all and will see you later in the month, hopefully. Fingers crossed “this too shall pass.” I am practicing on stillness in my mind because getting upset doesn’t help.
Lastly, for those of you in the U.S., I wish you a SAFE & COOL 4th of July! Hugs to you all, Lauren ❤️💙❤️
My poetry collection will turn one year old later this month, but if you don’t own a copy, I hope you’ll add itto your home library. You’ll find many takeaways about nature, love, and life! 💚🩵💚
If you’ve followed my story, you know that I’ve been dealing with health changes in the last year. And so, the trials commenced figuring out how to manage the pain while maintaining some sense of normalcy in my daily routines. In the beginning, I couldn’t walk long distances. I felt like this basic activity was taken away from me, which was tough to accept. I missed hiking. Well, in February, I had an epidural in my lower back (recommended treatment). Talk about miracles! So, recently, I went on ‘my first hike in the last year’ with my husband. I was able to hike at a moderate clip, and it felt so good to be on the trail again! We went to one of our favorite places, Deer Park, and of course, I had to take photos to document this incredible day where I hiked two miles without pain! I hope you enjoy the pics, and is there ever a time when Nature doesn’t inspire poetry? I don’t think so! These poems are written in Shadorma form!
Forest
Is it so that some believe the forest is not alive? We are all living creatures communicating.
Fascination
Standing tall with architecture to showcase, passersby drop jaws in fascination – one of nature’s gifts.
California Bay
Swinging
Stretch the legs pump with all our might back and forth swinging high while California Bay peeks with utter delight
SmileA new friend
Picnic Table memories
Two buddies slightly underaged ignore signs (no malice) they chug beer and chew the fat, officer stops by.
On the trail again!
Trees
A network of fungi grows deep in the roots, Wood Wide Web is the label given for interconnection.
Thank you for joining us on this memorable hike! I’m still doing well, and it’s good to feel good!
Lastly, today is the final day to vote for Nomination of the Month at Spillwords Press! If you missed it, here is my prior post. “Resilience is Her Saving Grace” is my first fiction short story to be published at Spillwords, so this nomination really means a lot, but especially for the vital message it conveys regarding abusive relationships. I am including the story below if you haven’t read it.
Resilience is Her Saving Grace
The tempest held its vigil on the horizon but continued to fool her. Devotion in his eyes mesmerized her whole being, awakened every pulse in her body. Eyes that spoke the language of love where their future glowed like an apricot dawn. She bestowed her heart permission to be swept into his pools of blue…
And yet, every day she anticipates the sting from his hand – the palm or back, makes no difference. The sting smarts like hell, but her heart secures the brunt of the damage. The slaps begin early each morning if she doesn’t move fast enough to appease his caffeine demands. And it’s ironic that he chose ‘chalet’ for his cell alarm because the calming tone contrasts to his horrific demeanor. After he walks through the front door following a day’s work, if she so much as smiles unknowingly to his disliking, his hand finds her cheek, and she feels the strike of skin even before impact. 5 p.m. on the mantel clock makes her heart pound as though trying to make a getaway.
The house that once was a home mirrors a prison. Cameras keep their eyes on her as he watches from his downtown office. Claustrophobia slithers down her spine. She struggles to quell the panic attacks. And her cell is meant only to reach him or to answer his calls. He tracks her like a wild animal. The ring on her finger stole all contact from the outside world – lost like a loved one’s passing. Grieving has no end, but she doesn’t dare misbehave because the pain is relentless.
She recalls the beautiful moments when his hands would send tingles from her neck down the map of her body. What did I do wrong? consumed her every thought when he transformed from loving husband to beast. Thoughts that became so tangled, she couldn’t ruminate until the truth stared her in the face. Her cheeks grew hot like asphalt in August from the realization that the monster had always existed.
Before the perfect couple whispered those two celebrated words on that breezy afternoon, signifying “You are my forever person,” he wore charm impeccably like a well-pressed dress shirt – his kisses intoxicating as jasmine, gentle like summer rain – respect enfolded in each embrace. Then donning satin and lace, the solitaire sparkled like her heart and soul, but true personas can take cover behind convincing eyes and smiles.
How could she have missed the signs? She ponders over and over.
Time – revelations, decisions, and strategies always take time. Her defense, submission, though she loathes appearing weak, and the agony tests her strength. But the path will wend its way, leading her to a door for a fresh start, caressing her bruised face and her body, his punching bag.
Gazing out the window, she watches courage whirl among the cottony clouds. Around the corner, freedom waits with intensity, as though motioning for her to come closer, excited for her new, safe beginning. She witnesses a glimpse of hope in the pink daisy pushing through the crack in the sidewalk.
But biding her time means life, and staying alive is her objective. She must bleed toughly. Resilience is her saving grace and not meant to be scattered on the floor, anymore. She must be smart to be free.
If you haven’t voted yet, I’m asking for your support, and here is the link to cast your vote: https://spillwords.com/vote/
Thank you again to Dagmara and her team at Spillwords for allowing my writing to reach so many readers. I am grateful beyond words! Not to mention, standing beside the other fabulous nominees! And a Huge Thanks to you who have already voted! Your support means the world to me!
Thanks so much for stopping by my neck of the woods, and I hope you enjoyed the beauty of nature, along with the significance of perseverance!
I am excited to share that my story “Resilience is Her Saving Grace” has been nominated for Publication of the Month by Spillwords Press. In the past, I’ve only submitted poetry, but I stepped out of the box and submitted this fiction short story that is reality for many, so I am thrilled with this nomination! This recognition means the world to me, and it is an honor to be in the company of so many amazing writers. Thank you to Dagmara, her team at Spillwords, and to the readers who offer the most wonderful support of my writing. The email that landed in my inbox last night was…
Dear writers,
We are thrilled to extend our heartfelt congratulations to every one of you! Your exceptional pieces have been nominated due to popular demand for May’s Publication of The Month.
We encourage you to share this link with your family, friends, and supporters, as their votes can make all the difference.
Please note that voting will conclude on 5/29; soon after, we will reveal the well-deserved recipient of this prestigious title.
To vote, kindly register and/or log in to ensure your voice is heard.
The winning publication will be prominently featured on the Spillwords.com sidebar throughout the entire month of June, gaining well-deserved recognition from our global audience.
HERE ARE THE NOMINEES:
The Antiquarian by Steven Elvy
Crescendo by Alan David Gould
Resilience is Her Saving Grace by Lauren Scott
The Road Less Travelled by Vidya Venkataramanan
A Squirrel’s Front Teeth Never Stop Growing by Barbara Harris Leonhard
Sun Over Cadaqués by Kate Aranda Nye
The Dark Night of the Soul by Michael Balner
There Are Angels on Earth by Simona Prilogan
Passages – Last Sailing by Gerry Stefanson
(My) Night-Long Lament by Michelle Ayon Navajas
From The Land of Olives by Nada M. Sobhi
Turning Tables by Nova Loverro
In Memory of Harold Bloom by Jake Sheff
French Fry Etiquette by Judge Burdon
To all the nominees, good luck! Your contributions have enriched our platform, and we deeply appreciate your excellent collaboration and participation.
The tempest held its vigil on the horizon but continued to fool her. Devotion in his eyes mesmerized her whole being, awakened every pulse in her body. Eyes that spoke the language of love where their future glowed like an apricot dawn. She bestowed her heart permission to be swept into his pools of blue…
And yet, every day she anticipates the sting from his hand – the palm or back, makes no difference. The sting smarts like hell, but her heart secures the brunt of the damage. The slaps begin early each morning if she doesn’t move fast enough to appease his caffeine demands. And it’s ironic that he chose ‘chalet’ for his cell alarm because the calming tone contrasts to his horrific demeanor. After he walks through the front door following a day’s work, if she so much as smiles unknowingly to his disliking, his hand finds her cheek, and she feels the strike of skin even before impact. 5 p.m. on the mantel clock makes her heart pound as though trying to make a getaway.
The house that once was a home mirrors a prison. Cameras keep their eyes on her as he watches from his downtown office. Claustrophobia slithers down her spine. She struggles to quell the panic attacks. And her cell is meant only to reach him or to answer his calls. He tracks her like a wild animal. The ring on her finger stole all contact from the outside world – lost like a loved one’s passing. Grieving has no end, but she doesn’t dare misbehave because the pain is relentless.
She recalls the beautiful moments when his hands would send tingles from her neck down the map of her body. What did I do wrong? consumed her every thought when he transformed from loving husband to beast. Thoughts that became so tangled, she couldn’t ruminate until the truth stared her in the face. Her cheeks grew hot like asphalt in August from the realization that the monster had always existed.
Before the perfect couple whispered those two celebrated words on that breezy afternoon, signifying “You are my forever person,” he wore charm impeccably like a well-pressed dress shirt – his kisses intoxicating as jasmine, gentle like summer rain – respect enfolded in each embrace. Then donning satin and lace, the solitaire sparkled like her heart and soul, but true personas can take cover behind convincing eyes and smiles.
How could she have missed the signs? She ponders over and over.
Time – revelations, decisions, and strategies always take time. Her defense, submission, though she loathes appearing weak, and the agony tests her strength. But the path will wend its way, leading her to a door for a fresh start, caressing her bruised face and her body, his punching bag.
Gazing out the window, she watches courage whirl among the cottony clouds. Around the corner, freedom waits with intensity, as though motioning for her to come closer, excited for her new, safe beginning. She witnesses a glimpse of hope in the pink daisy pushing through the crack in the sidewalk.
But biding her time means life, and staying alive is her objective. She must bleed toughly. Resilience is her saving grace and not meant to be scattered on the floor, anymore. She must be smart to be free.
If you’d like, you canvisit the original post of “Resilience is Her Saving Grace” on Spillwords by clicking here.
Thank you for stopping by! Voting will conclude on Wednesday, May 29th, so I would greatly appreciate your vote here: https://spillwords.com/vote/If you don’t have an account, registering is required, and I know one more account and password is a lot to ask of you, but please know that I appreciate your time! And if you already have an account, simply log in and click on the circle next to my story. 💞🙏
I invite you to visit Rebecca’s blog to listen to our conversation on poetry. You can also find our podcast on Spotify, Facebook, SoundCloud, Instagram, and Mastodon.
Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy the podcast!
Ariel’s Song by Dawn Pisturino is a beautiful and evocative collection of sixty-five poems – a collection that she lovingly dedicates to her daughter whose name is Ariel. The poems were written over a period of three decades touching on topics of love, family, children, death, nature, and the unique. Some rhyme and others are free in their styles from traditional sonnets that invited me to contemplate, to twisted limericks that made me laugh. I had many favorites, but I’m sharing snippets from a few, otherwise, this review would turn into a novel.
Many poems brought a sense of nostalgia. “November” evoked memories of when the season changed into golds, yellows, and reds, the air brought a chill, and my parents were still with us, enjoying family weekends at our cabin – everyone was young, and the future looked brighter than ever.
When November came, We sat around the kitchen table after dark, Telling chilling tales Of ghosts and other phantoms of the night, While wooden logs crackled and burned On the old stone hearth, And a cold wind wrapped its spectral arms Around the ancient wooden cottage…
Dawn writes of her late father in “Rapping” which stirred emotions of my mother-in-law who departed from our world over thirty years ago. Our daughter was born the same year that Diane passed, and one evening from downstairs, we heard footsteps on the carpeted staircase when our little girl was sound asleep in her crib. No one else was in the house with us. So, was it Diane stealing a glance at her first precious grandchild? We imagined it was, and so we believed.
As a nature lover with a grateful heart for each new day “When the Morning Comes” hit home and really should be hung on refrigerators:
When the morning comes, Sun will shine with a different light, Earth will glow in a brand-new way, Moon will dance to a gayer tune, Clouds of pain will float away. Broken hearts will beat again, Empty eyes will see new life, Throats will open up and sing, Hands will break the chains of strife…
“I Hate Snakes” made me laugh out loud, but I can relate so well to the sentiments. Dawn’s vivid imagery summoned me along to explore with her in ‘the jungle’ and her frightening experience with snakes reminded me of my first encounter with a spider, which eventually turned into arachnophobia, causing a never-ending turbulent relationship with the creepy-crawlies.
I HATE SNAKES
I pushed open the creaky door to look inside And froze in shock at what I saw: Slithering, crawling, scaly snakes Formed a moving carpet on the floor, Entwining in an intimate embrace, Lying together in a clump of shimmering bodies, Moving slowly and surely in the rotten shadows. We beat a hasty retreat And never visited our ‘jungle’ again. And that’s why, even today, I HATE SNAKES!
Dawn’s collection of lovely, witty, and occasionally dark poetry, offers a verse and a sense of familiarity for everyone. Highly recommended for all poetry enthusiasts!
Thank you for stopping by, and enjoy your weekend ahead! ❤️
My latest collection of poetry, touching on nature, love, and the mysteries of life that would make a great for any holiday! Click on the image for your copy. Thank you! 💚