River Teeth: I'll admit that I was drawn to a new online newsletter because of it's title. Now I'm staying for the writing! I was absolutely blown away by McWha's essay earlier this month, and then I did a deeper dive into the previous issues of the River Teeth newsletter and got lost for an hour. Tight, concise, bite-sized essays you can read any time you want a little blast of gorgeous writing - that's something you can't find on traditional social media that's actually worth your brain cells. Here's a sample with their permission:
Rearview, October 7, 2024 by Ainsley McWha
Pulling out of the trailer park, where my passenger—a fourteen-year-old counseling client—lives, I pause by the mailboxes. “Don’t the Grand Tetons look great today?” Their snowcapped silhouette slices the eastern horizon, aglow against the azure sky. “Oh, I’ve never seen those before,” she replies. This is where she waits for the school bus every morning.
Down the road, I point out a mass of branches in the bare limbs of a cottonwood tree, the bald eagle’s nest. “How did you know that was there?” she asks. I almost say, “Because I have eyes,” but stay silent. Still, how could anyone miss something so obvious, so out of place?
One year post escape from the city—with its sharp, steely edges and shadowy tunnels; the collective vibrations, unwelcome grazes, and peering eyes of eight million urgent, shouting strangers—all I do these days is notice: clouds; birdsong; three droplets of morning dew along a blade of grass; the sweet, smoky scent of sagebrush rising from the rain-soaked field; an entire inverted world trapped within a melting icicle’s single drip.
Later, I’ll see: My client understandably thinks only of herself, worries about her siblings, their mother with her inability to provide and her propensity to extend invitations to exactly the wrong kind of men, survival.
Suddenly, I forgive my younger eyes for being blind and hope someday this girl, too, might have the luxury of feeling safe enough to spot the first buttercup of spring, that golden fleck of hope sprouting from the muddied earth.
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