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Easter Sunday
The sun will set in a little while, and another holy day will be memory and history. We sat outside as much as we could today, but the brisk breeze kept forcing us to retreat inside. Sitting directly in the sun helped a bit, but it was still chilly, so we didn’t get as many outdoor hours as we had hoped. The dogs romped and rolled in the grass, and the birds were so numerous and so active, we were in awe. We watched all day for a hummingbird — a year ago today, we got our first hummingbird of the spring –but none ever appeared. We had a fine…
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Home In High Summer
We went down into town this morning for an outing, but we almost didn’t go. Mrs. Orr has been battling a sinus thing that has migrated down into her chest and she’s been very weak from all the coughing. But she wanted to get out of the house and so we did. We ended up forgetting to buy the one thing we really went for, but that was all right. There’s an oriental market (yes, I’m aware that I’m supposed to say “Asian,” but that’s just too bad, innit?) where we sometimes shop for staples like Japanese matcha green tea, soba noodles, miso paste, and the odd vegetable like immaculate…
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The Last Monday of Summer
The light was eerie this morning, filtered through a mist that seemed lighter yet more substantial than usual. As Jinx and I patrolled the high ridges and scanned for deer, it was as silent as a shepherd’s crook. The moon was hidden by clouds, but I could sense its power and presence behind the vapor veil, and was reminded that the full moon will be upon us tonight. A corridor of high tulip poplars lines our driveway, and a hoot owl was perched somewhere in them this morning in the darkness. He called his mournful Morse code into the new morning — whoo, whoo, whoo-whooooooo — and I thought of…
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Requiescat In Pace
My dear friend and spiritual advisor, Father James, who is a monk at Our Lady of Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky, informed me that one of his friends and fellow monks died recently. Brother Frank Gorzynski died on March 19th, after a rapid decline. He had battled multiple health issues over the years and had spent considerable time living in the monastery’s infirmary, which is a skilled nursing facility. I didn’t know Brother Frank, though I did get to speak to him briefly in the hallway of the monastery’s visitor’s center during a visit. I remember his prominent eyebrows and his achingly sweet smile. Brother Frank was 92 years old and…