After a few hours walking along in the sun, we hiked back through the snow and hemlock trees to the cabin, which glowed yellow through the gloaming.
The Gotschall Cabin is lovely. It's warm and has a full kitchen. The two lofts above the main floor are filled with mattresses so we could pile up several for each of us, and cover them with our quilts. We ate chili and cornbread and then made s'mores on tea lights scattered across the long dining table. A perfect weekend.
I saw one raven out on the beach. RuthAnn called him in a great raven voice and he came back and circled us a few times. No poems on him yet, so I'll leave him for now.
I did get one new poem out of the weekend. I took a pic of Corey holding AnnaCaroline up on the loft railing. She loved it and we snapped this pic but now that picture gives me heart palpitations. It always feels so hard to balance between being a relaxed parent enjoying her joy, and the ever-watchful, fearful parent who keeps her safe.
I have been surprised I haven't written more poems about her (although her feedings have taken the place of my early morning writing sessions). I think she'll be good material, as I have such complex and conflicted feelings about the whole experience of being a parent. I've been afraid I'm going to write only sappy, simplistic poetry about her (since my feelings about her are not conflicted and are pretty simple!!). But maybe the way to approach it is to focus on experience. And of course, to write those other poems simply for her.
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