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‘Tis October
The hurricane/tropical storm took an eastward cank as it approached the eastern states and so most of the rain missed us. We had some on Friday evening, then overnight that night pretty hard, but yesterday it only sprinkled a time or two, and today is dry but blissfully cloudy. Friday night, Mrs. Orr was driving home and texted me, “Look at the rainbow.” I went outside and looked west, but saw only a golden sky, lit from behind the rain clouds. When I turned back to the house, there it was, a double rainbow in the northeast of our little world, and my heart sang within me as I stood…
- Bluebelle, Daily Life, Dixee, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Mrs. Orr, Photographs, Reflections
Little Things
I sat up late Friday night watching Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet. Fatigue forced me to watch the conclusion the next day; I awoke at 200 am with my head on Bluebelle’s hip. I believe we were both snoring. My heart is sad this morning, but it has nothing to do with the brooding Danish prince. Yesterday morning, while the sun was slanting down through the trees, I went to walk in the woods. The beams of light from our life-giving star were as solid as blonde pine joists, as substantial as anything into which I might drive a nail, as anything onto which I might hang an old family photograph. I…
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At the Curtain of Dusk
During a recent trip to the county dump, I tossed all of our garbage into dumpsters, then took a baggie of dry dog food from the front seat and poured the cup or so of food onto the gravel. I didn’t see the little cat that has greeted me for a while now, and I called to her, but she didn’t show. Driving out of the parking lot, I noticed for the first time a sign that warned against feeding feral cats, and indicating that anyone caught doing so would be considered the cat’s owner and would be responsible for damages and any fees incurred. I shrugged it off, but…
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All I’ve Got
I was working at my desk this afternoon when I heard Bluebelle whimper and fuss behind me. I looked back at her, followed her gaze, and saw a lovely young spike buck in the front yard, feeding on whatever caught his liquid brown eye. I watched him for a bit, took a few pictures, and then sat back down. When I looked up again, the buck was gone. He lives with a fully-grown six-pointer, two does, and a fawn in the woods behind our house. It is a never-fading wonder to watch such lithe, muscular beauty move through my world in such an unself-conscious way. And I am grateful. ***…
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Animals and Other Creatures
A good rainstorm sluiced through the area yesterday, and when I looked out on the front porch, I saw what appeared to be a very small, very intense Benedictine monk praying at the makeshift altar at the edge of the boards. He stayed there for quite a while, and stared at Mrs. Orr when she came to the window as if to say, “Private time. Vespers. Don’t intrude. Do you mind?” And then I went to the landfill today to drop off some trash. The place usually does a pretty good job of controlling feral cats, rats, and other critters, but the last two times I’ve been at the landfill,…
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Almost A Lot of Things
The other morning I bent to get a watering can so I could give some of my wife’s porch flowers a drink. When I looked down at the can, I saw movement inside. A butterfly was marooned inside, flapping its wings with less-than-vigorous motion. I reached in and scooped the little fellow up, then held him before my face. I have no way to prove this, but I could tell that the butterfly was exhausted. I held him on my hand for a minute, then called to Mrs. Orr and asked her to hold him on her palm so I could have some perspective for a photo. She whispered to…
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Brevities
This morning my wife headed down into town. She had only been gone about fifteen minutes, and I had just poured myself another cup of coffee and wedged myself between the spotted twins on the couch when my phone rang. It was Mrs. Orr, and I immediately knew something was wrong. I heard her address me by the term of affection the grandchildren use, PeePaw, and I heard something in her voice and said, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” And I listened as she told me that she had just gotten down to the bottom of the mountain and was near our little post office when two deer streaked out…
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Mother’s Day
First things first — a happy and blessed Mother’s Day to all of my dear readers who are mothers. May your day be peaceful and may your hearts find some happiness in thoughts of your children or of your own mother, even if you are in the midst of sadness today. I remember Mother’s Day in churches in my younger years. Many of the Protestant churches had a tradition where all of the mothers would receive a red rose, and the non-mothers and the adult men would receive a small rose bud…red for those whose mothers were living, and white for those whose mothers had died. Several years ago, I…
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A Little Dog
If you are the sort of person who prays for animals, please pray for our little elderly dog, Dixee. She is undergoing surgery today. A few years back, she developed a cancerous growth and was treated for this. A new, more sinister-looking growth has appeared on her leg and surgery is needed not only to remove it, but also to biopsy it and arrive at a prognosis. Our main concern is that due to her age and increasing frailty, the general anesthesia may be too much for her. We are prepared emotionally if she doesn’t survive the surgery, but I would still ask for your prayers, that the veterinary surgeon…
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Deserts And Caves
One of the books I got last week at the library book sale was Spirituality and the Desert Experience, by Charles Cummings, OCSO (1978, Dimension Books, Denville, NJ). This exploration of spiritual deserts by a Trappist monk (he died in 2020) is very readable and possesses one of those qualities that I so enjoy in a book: the need to set the book down frequently and ruminate on what I’ve just read. In chapter two (pp. 42-44), Father Cummings describes a sleep study profiled in National Geographic magazine from March of 1975 (Vol.147, number 3) which was conducted by a French scientist named Michel Siffre. Father Cummings tells us: [Siffre]…