Introduction by Ted Kooser: Here's a celebration of one day in the week, the kids with the father, a brownie for breakfast, everything right with the world. January O’Neil lives in Massachusetts, and this poem first appeared in RATTLE. Her most recent book is Misery Islands (Cavankerry Press, 2014).

Sunday

You are the start of the week

or the end of it, and according

to The Beatles you creep in

like a nun. You're the second

full day the kids have been

away with their father, the second

full day of an empty house.

Sunday, I've missed you. I've been

sitting in the backyard with a glass

of Pinot waiting for your arrival.

Did you know the first Sweet 100s

are turning red in the garden,

but the lettuce has grown

too bitter to eat. I am looking

up at the bluest sky I have ever seen,

cerulean blue, a heaven sky

no one would believe I was under.

You are my witness. No day

is promised. You are absolution.

You are my unwritten to-do list,

my dishes in the sink, my brownie

breakfast, my braless day.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2013 by January O'Neil, “Sunday,” from Rattle, (No. 41, Fall 2013). Poem reprinted by permission of January O'Neil and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2017 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Since it’s already 90+ degrees here, I’ve been thinking wistfully of the cooler, drier air we had on our road trip, how invigorating I found it and how nice it was not to be constantly sticky.

I’ve been admiring Debbie’s beautiful flowers, varieties that generally don’t grow well here in central Florida.

And I’m jealous of another friend’s success growing lavender—it doesn’t thrive here in Florida’s humidity.

Enough.

In all this wishing things were different, I’m forgetting the many simple pleasures that are right under my nose. For instance:

I will always wish for a climate less humid, but I am so grateful I have air conditioning to make life livable. (My Florida-native husband grew up in a home without it!)

It’s time to practice the adage,  “Happiness is not having what you want. It’s wanting what you have.”

“I am determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situation I may find myself. For I have learned that the greater part of our misery or unhappiness is determined not by our circumstance but by our disposition.”

—Martha Washington

Photo courtesy Michael Gaida

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Once the carpenter put the sash-weights into the wall next to the window, they were never seen again. Eventually they fell off the ropes and with just one loud outcry fell deeper into the dark. But we propped the windows open with this and that, and forgot about the weights. Here's a poem about those props by Michelle Menting, who lives in Maine, and who was once our assistant at American Life in Poetry. Her forthcoming book is Leaves Surface Like Skin from Dancing Girl Press.

Objects Used to Prop Open a Window

Dog bone, stapler,

cribbage board, garlic press

   because this window is loose—lacks

suction, lacks grip.

Bungee cord, bootstrap,

dog leash, leather belt

   because this window had sash cords.

They frayed. They broke.

Feather duster, thatch of straw, empty

bottle of Elmer's glue

   because this window is loud—its hinges clack

open, clack shut.

Stuffed bear, baby blanket,

single crib newel

   because this window is split. It's dividing

in two.

Velvet moss, sagebrush,

willow branch, robin's wing

   because this window, it's pane-less. It's only

a frame of air.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2013 by Michelle Menting, “Objects Used to Prop Open a Window,” from Decomp Magazine, (February, 2015). Poem reprinted by permission of Michelle Menting and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2017 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Third and final installment of road trip adventures (see part one here, and part two here).

In addition to the striking scenery, good food, and precious hours spent with a friend, one of the best things about my recent trip was the complete break in routine. Routines can become ruts, where life sort of runs on automatic pilot and I don’t think about what I’m doing. After coming home, I have the choice of picking up my previous routines… or not. That’s one of the things I’m still figuring out, two weeks into my return. I feel like I need to change up how I operate.

But I digress.

Before I continue with the travelogue, I have to share with you the Best. Breakfast. Ever.  We ate at Crema in Cottonwood, Arizona both mornings we were in town. If you’re in the area, do not miss it. (No affiliation.)

After fueling up at Crema, we waddled to our car where we took off for further exploration, including: 

Montezuma Castle/Montezuma Well

The cliff dwellings at Montezuma Castle were home to the Southern Sinagua, and were occupied until the 1400s. Montezuma Castle is one of the best-preserved historic structures of the Southwest. It rises 100 feet above the valley, and consists of five stories and 20 rooms. Early American settlers assumed it was Aztec in origin, so they named it after Montezuma. We walked an easy paved loop trail past the cliff dwellings, down to the river, and back to the visitor’s center.

After the Castle, we stopped by Montezuma Well right at the end of the day, and what a lovely spot it turned out to be! The Well is fed by springs, and more than 1.5 million gallons of water flow into it every day.  The water eventually flows into an irrigation ditch, which has sections that date back over 1,000 years. The Southern Sinagua used water from this well to irrigate crops, and the residents of Rimrock, Arizona currently use it for gardens and livestock. There’s a pretty stiff climb up a hill that leads you to this:

We also climbed down to the water level of the well, and followed a trail along where the water flows out of it. 

In a previous post, I promised striking rock formations, and here they are:

Bell Rock and Courthouse Butte, near Sedona, Arizona. We stopped here briefly before sunset, dinner, and heading back to our hotel for the night.

The last place I’ll take you on this road trip is also one of my favorites: Horseshoe Bend. Horseshoe Bend is near the Grand Canyon, but not technically part of it. You can take an aerial or land tour, but you can also park and walk to the rim for free. Once there, look down 1,000 feet to the Colorado River as it winds around a 270-degree, horseshoe-shaped bend. This is known as an entrenched meander. Isn’t that a wonderful name?

We visited Horseshoe Bend twice, hoping for some good sunset photos, but it was too hazy each time. That didn’t matter—with or without sunset, Horseshoe Bend is photogenic, and the people watching was also entertaining. Stressed-out parents trying to keep their kids safe but still allow them to see and photograph the scene, couples cautiously creeping to the edge of the canyon to take selfies (or foolhardily marching up to the edge), Kerri trying for the perfect shot without losing her camera and tripod into the abyss. Once I snapped my photos, I sat and soaked up the scene while she experimented with settings and tripod placement, letting my eyes wander over the landscape, feeling the slight breeze on my face.

Yes, we were this close to the edge

I hope you’ve enjoyed our little jaunt into Arizona and New Mexico. It’s not always a pleasure to hear about someone else’s adventures when what you really want is to have your own! (Fair warning: there will probably be at least one future Field Trip Friday post based in the Southwest!)

What is your next adventure?