“Instead, the deer step carefully” By Sasha at the Airbnb

Saturday January 25, 2020
10:48am
5 minutes
The Return

Rick Bass

The deer gather in a circle. I see them from where I’m camped under an old arbutus. This is the fifteenth morning in a row I’ve seen them like this. The fly of my tent is covered in banana slugs, and what they leave behind as they move. Blessed beings, these strange soft creatures. I unzip quietly, so as to not disturb the deer – a mix of young and old, female and male. I haven’t peed yet, and have to go. I know that if I move quickly, they’ll scatter. I don’t want to interrupt. I’m on their land, after all. I’m the guest. I bow my head, move very slowly. A buck spots me, narrows his eyes, smirks. I smile, careful not to reveal my teeth. I don’t want to appear a threat, I’m not a threat, I’m a student of their grace. I find a fern three times the size of my body, and pull down my fleecy long underwear. I relieve myself.

“please take my advice” by Sasha on the 99 Bus


Wednesday October 8, 2014
5:56pm
5 minutes
from a man’s t-shirt

The tree outside my house is on fire
Yellow
Red
Glowing sunshine and change
The squirrel followed me here
This new (not so new) place
The squirrel stops and looks and runs and looks
The arbutus shakes my spirit like a tambourine
The arbutus sheds her bark like I wish I knew how
It’s cold in the morning
You light a fire
You flick the switch
You fill the kettle with water and I wait for it to boil
I curl my toes
Like bark
I breathe a sigh of relief that time is here
That now is here
That it’s October and sometimes I see familiar faces
You make my tea and you bring it to me while I try to meditate on the grey cushion
The tree outside my house teaches me about letting go
And the sage I burn teaches me about smoke
and longing
And you teach me about love
Every day
Every autumn
This
Our third one
We fall in Fall and in falling we open and in opening we live our fullest beauty.