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Let It Stay
The sky was as blue as a cornflower marble, wisps of cirrus clouds high in the ceiling, and there were no vapor trails, no intruding airplanes. There were only hawks up there, and Jinx, sky-aware as always, sat with me and watched them in their fixed-wing thermal soarings. We were in the cemetery grass, and it was warm and soft there in the green, on the carpet that covers the sleeping remains of fathers and daughters, mothers and sons. The carved and lettered stones stood around us as if watching, and they were speaking, though not in voices a waking man can hear. I watched Jinx as he watched the…
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Columbus Day
Ho-hum, another dead white male who exploited and killed the gentle, prosperous peoples he encountered on his greedy voyages, right? Christopher Columbus explicitly and repeatedly averred his devotion to Christ and his desire to bring the gospel to the heathen lands to which he sailed, but since no “historian” alive today could believe in something as tiresome as the claims of Christ and His Church, Columbus must have been motivated by a lust for gold and plunder. That’s the way we hear it, right? As for me, I say God bless the memory of Christopher Columbus and his deeds. I feel a kinship with him because I am a member…
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Happy Birthday, Mrs. Orr
Happy Birthday to the love of my life, who is the best and kindest and most virtuous human being I have ever known. The two of us spent the day doing exactly what we wanted, and it was fine. I even got some country ham out of the deal… As the day ends, I am aware of all that I have, of all that has been given me. I love you, Mrs. Orr. Happy Birthday to my little Texas girl. ~ S.K. Orr
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All The Wistful Creatures
Today is the feast day of Saint Francis of Assisi, the Catholic monk best known for his intentional poverty and his association with animals. One of his most famous prayers, offered on behalf of animals, is this: Hear our humble prayer, O God, for our friends, the animals, especially for those who are suffering; for animals that are overworked, underfed and cruelly treated; for all the wistful creatures in captivity, that beat their wings against bars; for any that are hunted or lost or deserted, or frightened or hungry; for all that must be put to death. We entreat for them all Thy mercy and pity, and for those who…
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Mine Own Compline
This is a spiritual exercise, and I want you to do it with me. Right now. Go and get a candle and place it on a desk or table before you, and light it. Stare at the flame for a moment, that blue and yellow tongue that feeds on the exact same oxygen as you. Then close your eyes. Bow your head as you did when you were a child, and bring your hands up, palms together, left thumb looped over the right. As you did when you were a child. Place the tips of your index fingers on your lips; your middle fingers will probably be on or just…
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Leaves Change, Dogs Lie
As I write these words, Jinx is sleeping in the recliner on the back porch. I came out here to do a bit of writing and he came out with me. As is his custom, the spotted menace hopped up in my lap to snuggle, and so scribbling with my pencil in my notebook became nigh impossible. We rocked and watched the rain and the birds and the chipmunks, and we rested. I needed to go inside at one point so I could put clothes into the dryer, and when I stood up, Jinx got back into the chair and made himself comfortable. When I returned, he was asleep, but…
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Young October
And now September has flown away with the hummingbirds, leaving the young and quiet October as sentry to my observed life. We haven’t yet had our first frost, but the mornings are damp and chilly, and I’ve resumed wearing a hat on my morning rambles with the spotted menace. The spider webs are visible on many plants and structures, dew-decked and glistening like ice wheels. The wildflowers are dying back slowly; this morning Jinx and I passed between rows of late chicory, the vivid blue a contrast to the murky air around us. The leaves on the trees are slowly turning. I’m growing a tiny oak tree in a flowerpot…