Synkroniciti is thrilled to welcome back poet and writer Annette Boushey Holland from California. Her essay, “Circling,” was our contest winner and we are also featuring two poems, “Baylor Hospital Peace Garden” and “Lone Hawthorn” in “Recovery.”
In “Circling,” Annette tells the story of an anxious day fogged in at the airport, waiting for a plane to land and transport her daughter to a facility in Tucson, where they can at last address her anorexia. “But finally, this is the day. Finally on her way to a place that looks like a dude ranch for sensitive young women, with therapy horses, patient and positive staff, skilled counselors. They will meet her at the airport with their van, admit her and insert a feeding tube through her nose to save her life.
She’s finally made up her mind, summoned her courage. And every flight is cancelled.”
Annette’s elegant yet conversational delivery is built upon the metaphor of the circling plane, hidden in the fog, as a symbol of her daughter struggling to survive. There is no guarantee that the plane will be able to land and no guarantee that this young woman will recover. Annette closes the essay with a tender haiku recognizing her daughter’s fragile, birdlike strength, making the piece an extended haibun form.
“Baylor Hospital Peace Garden” is about encountering a gigantic flock of grackles in the hospital garden. “Then I saw them—masses of birds, maybe thousands,/ rising and falling, calling, landing in the cluster of trees/ at the base of the concrete building. A cacophony, a whirlpool/ of birds. I stood, transfixed. Who were they? Why?” No one seems to know what kind of bird they are (I grew up in central Texas and recognized them from Annette’s description) and this only adds to their mystique. These birds, like the patients at the hospital, are here for a short time before they fly elsewhere.
“Lone Hawthorn” is an expression of gratitude for nature in the form of a single Hawthorn tree, unassuming and overlooked in a recovering Redwood forest. “Your brittle branches, now gray as the ghostly alders,/ will soon sprout leaves and by Beltane you will blossom./ In this dark time, we can envision a bright array of ribbons/ to weave in a dance, can hear the sweet music of Spring.” Hawthorns are supposed to have connections to the fairy folk and to bring good luck. Nature preserves and shelters us, who are all but oblivious to her presence.
If you would like to read Annette’s essay and poetry the “Recovery” issue is available here: https://synkroniciti.com/the-magazine/purchase-individual-issues/. She is a master storyteller and her poetry sings with subtle rhythm and alliterative music.
Annette is still recovering from childhood in a military family that frequently moved – so often that she attended eight different schools by the eighth grade. During the last several decades she has grown roots in a small valley on the North Coast of California, tucked between the ocean and what’s left of the redwood forest. She lives with her husband, two horses and a dog – and delights in visits from children and grandchildren. She likes to travel occasionally but immensely enjoys staying put. Annette spends time writing, painting, reading, dancing, hiking, kayaking, gardening, and hosting meditation retreats in their remodeled barn. A major focus of her life has been trying to help the natural world recover from the excesses of human exploitation. She has done fundraising and public relations for several conservation groups, taught English composition, and helped establish two land trusts. Her publications include articles on environmental issues, short memoirs, and poems.