Footprints to Turnagain

By Jessica Cherry

Snow came and left again. Swooshing out on my skis, I wonder if I am using it. Does snow serve at our pleasure? Do I need it to survive? So many questions this week, that hardly came to mind in weeks past. When I pass others on the trails, I smell them. I smell their perfume and their beer and their everything. They are too close. Where’s my bubble, I need a bubble. I think of Paul Simon’s Graceland and I can’t remember if he’s been cancelled. This isn’t Elvis’ Graceland, this is the sense Simon found from a shattered wreck, an historical nanosecond, and it’s a cassette us latchkey kids will remember playing in the car with our parents:

…Medicine is magical and magical is art

Think of the boy in the bubble

And the baby with the baboon heart

And I believe

These are the days of lasers in the jungle

Lasers in the jungle somewhere

Staccato signals of constant information

A loose affiliation of millionaires

And billionaires and baby

These are the days of miracle and wonder

This is the long distance call

The way the camera follows us in slo-mo

The way we look to us all, oh yeah…

But aren’t we passengers again on a baasskap (boss-ship)? Where’s our port of call, now? Last month was so long ago it was a whole different solar system. Where is our distant constellation? I wonder if it’s snowing there. Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry.

Jessica Cherry, PhD is a scientist, writer, and commercial airplane pilot living in Anchorage and Fairbanks.

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