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Layksuh Hayull
I sat outside this morning with bible, breviary, and notebook, my coffee steaming in the cool and sugared mugginess of the day’s initial pages. Up in the woods in the direction of the new-born sun, a screech owl called, sounding as always like a tiny spectral horse whinnying. His appearance is early this year; I usually don’t hear the screech owls until mid-to-late September. And I sat and sipped and wondered if his eerie song was considered a harbinger in the mythos of any peoples. The squadron of the buzzing bullets we call hummingbirds were about their business, and watching them reminded me of something from my pilgrimage to Gethsemani…
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Passing, Briefly
For the past couple of years, I have daily passed a man on a bicycle on the way to work. I always see him in town, about a mile from where I turn off the main road and head to my office. On the right shoulder of the road, he wears a jacket and ball cap, and a small backpack is strapped across his shoulders. I have never clearly seen his face, though when I glance over at him or look in my rear-view mirror, I can tell that he is wearing glasses. I cannot tell whether they are for vision or for protection against bugs and other things that…
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Feet On The Path
Through the door, I watched our little female possum, Noelle, as she ate her supper tonight. Her pouch hung quite low, touching the tips of the wet grass. I remarked on this and my wife said with large eyes, “We can’t have a bunch of baby possums running around here!” And I responded, “Well, why not?” Tomorrow I am leaving to go on a holy pilgrimage, one that I have been contemplating for quite some time. I haven’t decided yet, but I may write about it when I return. The night is heavy now, and so are my eyes, and so is my heart. And the darkness always passes……
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Savoring The Weariness
The weekend is ebbing and I’m sitting here, freshly showered and dressed in clean cotton and winding down, waiting to get sleepy. It’s a marvel that I’m not already sleepy, because I am bone-tired. But not because of physical exertion. A little while ago, I went out and picked some okra, re-tied some of the heavy-laden tomato plants, and watered all the flowers and vegetables. The humidity is hanging in the air like gray tulle, and I sweated heavily merely standing still with a garden hose. I needed the shower, but I didn’t tax myself. No, I am weary because this has been a weekend spent thinking, spent deep within…
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A Cup Of Day
Bruce Charlton continues to post things that work my mind and raise speed-bumps in front of my thought processes. This morning’s selection from William Arkle’s writings was a gem, a perfect way to start my day. On the drive to work, I found myself immersed in easy, free-form dialogue with God and in the idea of “What does this day hold for me? I don’t know, but whatever comes, it’s for my good!” With my personality, this is a rare thing and I am trying to enjoy it and sustain it for as long as I can. So thank you, Bruce, for so many things. ~ S.K. Orr
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Trying To Make It Home
When I arrived home from work, I fed the dogs and was puttering around the house, doing a few chores, when our small dog began woofing. Not barking, but woofing. A soft, short woof that she likes to utter particularly when she’s perturbed at something. When the woofing went on for more than a few seconds, I went to investigate. What I saw was this: A little rabbit, seeking shelter from the rain that had just started blowing in, was trying to make friends with our dog through the glass door. Our dog woofed a few more times, but she seemed content to mostly just sit and stare at the…
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April’s Begun
I managed today to evade any attempts to ensnare me in April Fool’s shenanigans. When I look back at some of the jokes I played on people in the past, I am embarrassed. I am also grateful that I was never the victim of some of the more cruel jokes people play on this day. Some of the cruelty is unintentional, but it’s wise to remember that practical jokes can sometimes assume a life of their own, and once they do, it’s difficult to euthanize them. I’m thinking of a woman with whom I used to work. She made a point of telling everyone in the office, “Do not play…
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Fragility Of Life
I took a long, slow walk last evening, saying my Rosary as I strolled. Tiny spring flowers were peeking up through the mast, winking in the dimming light, reminding me that life returns, that certain promises are always kept. While whispering the ancient prayers, I also kept an eye out for the bull over whose health I have been so concerned lately. I never saw him. I will continue to look for him, and in the meantime, I will continue to hope that he was healed as miraculously as our little dog Dixee was. I hope he is on a sunny slope this morning, cropping grass and eyeing the cows…