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Monday, January 02, 2006 Cloudy with a chance of tornadoes. Silly January weather. Does this bode a silly year? Could be worse since we have had way too many very serious years. Sedentary with a chance of movement. Sad that it's only a chance and not much encouraged by a cloudy, rainy day. Ran a few meals on wheels out to folks who were surprised to see us on a holiday. Their appreciation of the meal pales in comparison to my appreciation that I could help out. Blue with a chance of upswing. Much I'd like to be doing but work will take away my own agenda and replace it with the agenda for which I earn my own daily bread. Gainful employment is a mighty fine trade, surely beating the alternative hands down. But there isn't a worker bee in the world who doesn't face the ending of a long weekend with wistfulness. |
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Monday, December 12, 2005 Thirteen days until Christmas is crunch time in America. The engine of materialism roars as does the road system clogged with cars. Every office throws a party. Every home is decorated as if a party is about to occur. Every small town throws a parade. Every church and musical group throws a songfest. It could be delightful and some of it is delightful. But everyone also looks forward to having the frenzy subside. We will turn the corner. The sun will 'stand still' at the solstice and then the long nights will begin to shorten. The frantic fears of the ancients of the ever-darkening days will abate. All the parties in the dark time of the year helped them survive the panic. Satisfaction follows. We feel a warm sense that we have remembered to express affection, appreciation and kindness to those around us. |
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Thursday, December 8, 2005 Nearing dawn but still no signs of light on another day too short on sunshine. People make a knowing effort on these darkest days to fall into a frenzy of Christmas music, holiday shopping, cards sent to friends, gifts given to the neediest among us both the humans and the critters. Bird feeders re-filled against the on-coming cold of the storm. Some extra seed scattered on the ground for the birds too large to perch on the tiny ledges of the feeders. Outside dogs and cats brought inside where it's warm. Giving them comfortable places is a great kindness. No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted. |
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Sunday, November 27, 2005 Past midnight in the darkening months running up to the return of the sun/the new sun/the new son. Celebrate when the world is most dark and light-deprived. Feast and sing and lo and behold, the magicians were right: the days shortly afterward begin to be longer. Each old religion passes its light forward to the new son of light. The current one will be passed forward to the daughter who will be the keeper of peace. |
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Sunday, November 13, 2005 The year of winds gone lunatic and waves that go bump in the night. The frightened foresee the end of times but they have little faith. It is not a world where we can wait for help. The Earth is into the Times of Rumpus. The normally gentle Earth will spit, rock, belch as if it has dragons in its belly. The shallow will speak of reasons and why the dragons cry, but they don't know, not the shallow-seekers nor the dragons nor the night owls nor the dolphins who surf the torrents of water nor the hawks who tumble in the torrents of a tornado's fuming. An old dog sleeps, breathes deeply, feet twitching, the chase is on. Leave it to the old dogs. |
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Saturday, October 22, 2005 Water, water, everywhere -- Again! Hurricane Wilma is parked on Cozumel tonight. The Fall of endless hurricanes.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005 The much-loved planet has once again shown its utter, cruel and total disregard for its inhabitants. A monstrous earthquake in Pakistan to follow and --unbelievably-- exceed the wickedness of the tsunami and the hurricanes. The planet is the First Terrorist. Indifferent to living things, dropping concrete schools onto children, homes onto their homemakers. Somewhere between a single individual in jeopardy and forty thousand killed or hurt, our imaginations fail. Each single grief is comprehensible to the heart. Grief so magnified causes the eye of the heart to close. If we survive, our job is first, to help and then, to live. We find what we love in our days, the simplest things, so much more precious.
Saturday, September 24, 2005 Water, water, everywhere but not in South Carolina. Dogwood trees wilting with thirst as dry day follows dry day. Poor New Orleans has flooded again from hurricane Rita. Rita, though unkind to some cities, may finally grace our state with much-needed water.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005 Days becoming steadier which we judge by the tenor of news reaching us through our favored sources. Common-place stories interspersed between horrors, but each day anyone who reads encounters stories that jar the imagination. A mother and her two teenage children trapped in an attic for three days after the grandmother drowned. Can you imagine losing your own mother that way and being trapped as well?
Monday, September 06, 2005 A Labor Day without labor for some. Others struggling with an almighty destruction of their lives and still others struggling to get help through to those who need it. Help is on the way.
Friday, September 02, 2005 The horrors of Nature's villainy exemplified by Category 5 hurricane Katrina. The country suffers in empathy with the true suffering. The power of still photography remains so huge. We are ill with images that imbed in our thoughts. A grandmother dead in her wheelchair covered by a red blanket. A dog alone on a roof turning sad eyes towards the passing photographer. No helicopter will swoop down for him. Bless all the creatures, both human and not, who suffer.
Sunday, August 21, 2005 Afternoon in South Carolina. Thunder has mumbled and grumbled for hours. I've spoken with my distant, much-loved son.
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