this day

What can one say that could possibly describe a day such as this one? The beauty of the sky alone was indescribable. The air was filled with the expectation of a gorgeous fall. What really took my breath away was the beauty of life itself. The highest highs and the reminders of our fragile state. The birthday of my dear friend was spent walking through a splendid garden of Chihuly glass that was resplendent in the truest of colors and shapes. The reflections in the waters that surrounded them was alone worth the walk through, but the artistry was in itself magnificent. Whimsical forms shooting in all directions stood before us as we gazed more than a little awestruck. Sharing it with someone who has eyes to see beauty in all it's dimensions was a generous gift in itself. Happy Birthday, my dear friend.

This same precious morning came the news of an acquaintance that had been killed in a horrific accident in his own yard. A father of four, a dear man who had overcome many obstacles but had walked kindly in the midst of folks, always wanting to lend a hand. His precious wife and children are in deep sorrow this night as they stand in this present world of beauty, lessened by his departing.

Five years ago this day, we stood at the bedside of one of our dearest friends. His battle with the craziest of cancers finally closed his earthly eyes and caused ours to fill with tears. We all still miss him and his infectious smile, his fun loving hijinks's and his deep love for others. Heaven holds both of these fine men this day.

Returning my thoughts to the wondrous sky, I feel a sudden oneness with the shimmering beauty of the reflections tenuously before me this morning. Life is but a vapor. Here for unknown moments of time. Fragile as a breeze that blows and moves across the waters, taking the picture we gaze upon with it.

Jesus said, "I have come that they may have life and have it more abundantly." John 10:10b
That would be for days like this through eternity.

There's a mockingbird singing his full list of top ten hits out side my front door! I love mockingbirds, have prayed one would come to live in our shrubs or trees, whatever he liked.
But for these few moments he's decided to sing here and I am so happy about it. You see this is a very, very quiet little cul de sac. I am usually one of only two folks at home during the day. But lately all I get to hear is the construction, or my version is destruction, across the field that I have come to love. The bulldozer started at exactly 7:00 a.m. CST, just as early as the law allows. But that is my back yard. The mockingbird sings heartily from my front yard cedar trees.

I wonder what I can do to get him to stay? Maybe he would work for food, but I'm not sure what food he really likes. Maybe he's in search of a mate, but doesn't know about e-harmony.
Maybe he's happy the neighbor's cat is in for the day. Maybe.... Just wish he'd stay. Oh, well, he's already moved on to my neighbor's across the street. Guess he just wanted to share the love.
Thank you, my friend, you and your songs are always welcomed here.

Hesitation or no guts?

Morning broke with our retriever barking and our neighbor's dog stomping on my flower bed.
Neighbor Mr. Third Grader, stood at a distance saying "Come. Let's go home now. I have food for you." All the while my flowers were meeting their Maker beneath the paws of a full grown yellow lab. My frustration was only coupled by my regret that this young man-in-the-making was not brave enough or concerned enough to get his dog by the collar and pull him away.
My dog now having been drug into the house is more frustrated than I.

Sometimes I do the same thing as my young friend. I stand at a distance, knowing that I have
a responsibility to do something about something. I'm afraid of getting too involved, too serious, too...well sweaty. There are things in life worth the lather. I'm realizing more and more that it takes someone who is deteremined to let the "dog" get them slobbered up to get into the fray. The eternal importance of the issue to considered, am I the one that will walk up, take the "dog" by the collar and say, "You are out of here!"? I already know the answer.

beautiful day

Those fall shadows are draping themselves across the yard. You know the ones that look just a little softer and more elegant than those in summer. The sun's glow is gentler on the eyes and, seemingly, on the plant life. Babyblue sky is the backdrop for clouds like white smoke that enhances it all. Oh, why do we love fall so ? It is the backdrop for so much that is just getting started. New school years, football season, the beginning of holidays, the starts of the Christmas lists, gathering the last of the vegetables or maybe the roses, watching the store's bedding plants being replaced with pumpkins and corn stalks, carrying lozenges in your pocket, the smell of cinnamon and clove baking.... Where did summer slip off to?
For myself, it ended with a 40th year class reunion and visit back to the town of my birth. So much to absorb in just 18 hours. Old friends to reach out to for only a moment, lives to connect with, to remember what life been like for them for the last 40 years. So much to absorb in just 4 hours. Pictures never tell the whole tale, just help us see people we missed connecting with and hugging good. Some I never recognized until the captions on the pictures told the tale. I always want to go back and start over..start over seeing them again. Then there was the shock of my hometown. So very changed. Staring into windows with businesses I never heard of, unable to locate any I recognized. Streets used to be my passage ways to the library or to the counter for takeout, now completely absorbed by other cultures and some demolished for progress sake. I found myself at a loss to belong. I knew Wolfe was right, "You can't go home again." Brought back sadness to my present home and even now have a hard time packing it away. Yet, there was good to remember...the river still runs turbulent and strong. The battlefield is still a reminder to never forget. The cotton fields were white with cotton and the bridge still takes you across the river. My old friends still have the same smiles and voices are as strong as ever with laughter and joy. Even now I can hear their voices and see them sitting and talking like they'd never been apart.
I'm better now. I've let the past be what it is... the past. I have "Bright hope for tomorrow" for old friends, old hometowns and myself.

Okay, so I'm really sorry about my tomatoes. They remained alive despite a digging dog, a painful heat spell, a flood, weeds a mile high, only to be eaten alive by some bug that looked like it had on a shield. I gloried in the tenacity of those golden, then orange, then ripened orbes. I waited til the color was just right and then I decended my deck staircase to capture them in a bowl. Before the mayonaise was room temperature, I discovered the holes decorating each and every one. After all we had been through together, I thought we had a chance at success, but ..no.
You see, I had watched the objects of my sandwich-making affections from my deck. I only watered them at deep dusk. I actually never came out to check on them at all. They looked like they were fine to me. Alas, my lack of up close and personal attention was their downfall. Now
I'm having a hard time chopping them down as they stand there resplendent in red and green.
It's kindof like any good relationship. A true friend who is close enough to see when you are
threatened or having a tough time is not just gazing at you from afar. They're close enough to
help you kill your bugs.