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A.D. 2023
We reflexively say “Happy New Year” to each other, but this year, the phrase feels foreign and odd. So I will say to you all, may this year be a year of good choices and noble behavior on your part, and may each day bring you a greater sense of meaning, that you are not merely existing and waiting to escape this life, but rather that you are wringing every bit of experience and fullness from each day. And perhaps this will lead not just to happiness, but also to deep, serene contentment. And that would be a happy new year. ~ S.K. Orr
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The Individual Name
I have long believed that the voiceless things in the world around us – the trees, the stones, for example – are aware of us, of our movement among them. This morning, sitting at my desk at work in my home office, I watched the birds in the grass outside and smiled at their antics, and then I found myself watching the weeping willow tree a dozen yards from the door. Leafless and still, it seemed to be looking back at me. And for the first time, a question arose: do the trees and the rocks and the other silent things out there have names? I don’t mean names as…
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The Watched
A few years ago, I watched a documentary about a young girl in Germany who was abducted by a deranged man and held captive in his basement for years. I can’t recall the circumstances, but she eventually escaped or was rescued. She described her hellish time in her suburban prison, recalling how she was able to see out of a barred basement window, catching daily glimpses of people going about their lives, walking their dogs, arguing with traffic policemen, lifting their faces to the warming sun or huddling in their heavy winter coats against the wind. The young woman recalled how desperate she was to be able to call out…
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Kingdom Of Remnants
I am looking through the glass doors, looking outside at the peach trees Mrs. Orr and I tucked into the earth several years ago, now standing bare-limbed in the cold air at the edge of the front meadow. The trees have never done very well in terms of producing edible fruit, but they are lovely when they blossom and their leaves provide a nice shade beneath which we sometimes sit in the Adirondack chairs in warm weather. Someday those trees will be dead and gone, and perhaps no one in future years will ever know that beautiful peach trees once stood in that spot, on that gentle rise in the…
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Winter Rampant
Ah, it’s a winter day and the breathing of the year is slowing down, agonal, soon to stop. The endless circling of the stars and the thin shafts of sunlight spear down into the earth and bring a certain gladness, it seems to me, to the birds who go about their business above me. The frost retreats from the heat of my thumb, pressed against the grainy glass of the windshield in passing, a reminder that I still have within me the heat of the life-force, the soul-ember that can melt the deep cold that exists between the planets, that exists between men of the same bloodline who should be…
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Holy Innocents
Holy Innocents There were several of us in the airy house, one or two to a cage and tended well by the withered man and his quiet wife. We thrilled to the gentle care they gave us, and we had forgotten that we had ever flown free in the open sky with its wonders and its hazards. We sang out our gratitude, and we loved to speak to the lined faces that peered up at us when they spilled food and sweet water into our cups or changed the paper on our floors. We hung in our small homes in the ivory-colored light that sifted in through the paper…
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Of Infinite Space
This flu or virus or whatever it is continues its unwelcome visit within me. I went to bed earlier than usual last night, weary and feeling the congestion in my chest and head like a double ferris wheel, spinning and changing position, rumble and roar, chest and head, rumble and roar. I had been thinking all day of my mother, and the last thought I had before I slipped down into sleep was to wonder whether Mother’s spirit is ever near me, if she ever tries to contact me or watch over me. An odd thought, and I soon left it and all thoughts and entered that nightly place of…
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Merry Christmas
Mrs. Orr and I want to wish each of you, those who are kind enough to visit this little blog, a very Merry Christmas. And God bless us, everyone. ~ S.K. Orr
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Bless The Beasts
Last night while my wife and I were relaxing, I watched the spotted twins romp. The ever-sleeping Dixee paid them no heed, continuing to slumber in her little bed by my wife’s chair, undisturbed in her deafness and warm in her sweater. It’s never a sure bet as to which dog will start the donnybrook. When Jinx does it, he usually sits above Bluebelle and growls at her, a rising wail that concludes with three or four sharp barks. While he’s barking at his sister, he’s looking around at us to see if we’re watching. Then he moves to Bluebelle and starts gnawing on a leg or snapping at her…
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Chill
I utterly despise the media, whether the news, popular culture, or what passes for “art” these days. A question came to me this evening and I turned to express it to my wife. “When’s the last time you heard anyone mention monkey pox?” She laughed, because she knew what I was getting at. Before that stumpy, swarthy little illegitimate comedian’s appearance before Congress today in his grimy gym suit, how many of you had heard anything about Ukraine (formerly known as the Ukraine) in the news in recent days? Do chefs still prepare chicken Kiev, or is it now chicken KEEEEEEEV? Covid is apparently cured completely, with flu and RSV…