• Bluebelle,  Church Life,  Daily Life,  Jinx,  Mrs. Orr,  Music,  Photographs,  Reflections

    The Value of Moments

    This morning, this gray and dripping morning, I walked in a neighbor’s corn field, thick-grown with silage for his cows. Except for the soft sighing in the tops of the trees in my woods behind me, the silence was deep and cyclical, like a tide, like a black spot in space between two stars. I stood in the chest-high corn plants and listened, and heard nothing but breeze, and I listened again, and inexplicably, a song came into my head, a song I have neither heard nor thought of in years. I walked on through the corn and then at the perimeter found some bear scat. A calf watched me…

  • Bluebelle,  Daily Life,  Photographs,  Reflections

    Layers of Sadness

    I  just walked past the calendar and realized that a very important milestone came and went today, unnoticed by me, who was thinking of the wretched Marine Corps and of our new dog and of some issues that have arisen lately. Two years ago this morning, our beloved Bonnie died. We always said she was the best dog in the world, and we still believe this. Her passing hit us hard; that day was one of the saddest and most difficult in our married life together. I visit her grave in the woods behind the house regularly, and I still talk to her, and I still believe I will see…

  • Daily Life,  Jinx,  Photographs,  Reflections

    The Tenth of August

    Today marks the thirteenth anniversary of the day Bonnie came to live with us. Such a noble and big-hearted dog she was, and I miss her every day. This morning, Jinx and I walked up to her grave in the woods, and the place seemed to me to be in a holy hush, decked with dew and spider’s strands, with the quiet morning noises of the woods whispering all around us. A screech owl let loose her ghostly call, and Jinx was startled by the noise. We stood a moment at the grave, and then returned to the house, the spotted dog walking beside me with dignity and what seemed…

  • Daily Life,  Holy Days,  Reflections

    One And Two Hundred Forty-Five

    In my younger years, today was always significant, as it marks the birthday of the United States Marine Corps. This year is the 245th birthday of Mother Green, the Killing Machine. And while I have mixed feelings about my beloved Corps and the path she’s taken in recent politically-correct years, I will forever be proud of my association with the epitome of masculine insanity I lived and breathed for six years. Happy Birthday, Devil Dogs! But today marks a sadder anniversary. One year ago today, our beloved Bonnie left us in the early morning hours and left a void that will never be filled. I am grateful for my rambunctious…

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  • Daily Life,  I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation,  Reflections

    The Strange Power

    “Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.” ― Cormac McCarthy, All The Pretty Horses Yesterday marked six months to the day that our beloved dog, Bonnie, died in her sleep. I don’t ponder it as much as I once did, but each time I remember the moment that I realized Bonnie was gone, I feel as if I have been kicked in the stomach. The sense of her being stolen from us is as raw and punishing as it was half a year ago. My grief for my dog caught me by surprise. I never expected to mourn an animal the way I did Bonnie.…

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  • Daily Life,  Memoirs,  Reflections

    Memories Of My Dog

    Some years ago, there was a television commercial for cheese, an ad in which people were shown doing all sorts of risky and humorous things in order to acquire a piece of golden cheddar. At the end of the commercial, a mellow male voice would intone, “Behold the power of cheese.” We saw this power in action a few times with our dog Bonnie. One wintry day several years ago, Bonnie was outside exploring. My wife heard her run up onto the back deck, and so she went to let the dog in. When she opened the door, she saw Bonnie holding the rear half of a large rabbit in…

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  • Books,  Daily Life,  Lectio Divina,  Reflections,  Reviews

    A Big Little Life

    Up until this past weekend, I had read exactly one book by Dean Koontz. It was a supernatural suspense novel called Whispers, and I read it when I was a young Marine in 1980. The book came into my possession just as I was ending a two-or-three year spree of reading Stephen King novels, and I was growing tired of the genre. Whispers did its work with me — it kept me up late into the night reading, and later kept me awake listening to the night sounds and thinking about the world Koontz had created. But I assumed that Mr. Koontz was treading the same ground King had already…