Today I fled to the shelter of the river to shed the worries of the day. The nights are coming on more quickly now, just a few short weeks from fall. The cottonwood trees don’t know this yet; their green shiny leaves still dance on branches, unaware of their upcoming fall from grace. The sun is low on the horizon, slowly descending into the water, leaving smoky wisps of rust and gold to dance on the crest of each wave. In the east, the full Corn Moon rises through the evening stars, shying peeking through gossamer clouds to gaze at her reflection in the water. I watch a fisherman patiently watch his line in the growing darkness, his face lit by the occasional glow of a cigarette ember. Above, the erratic flight of bats and the piercing call of killdeer fill the air. On the beach, a solitary figure huddles close to a driftwood fire and stares without seeing into the always moving waters. I stand and breathe deep of the rich perfume of the ongoing cycle of birth and life and decay….the sheer beauty of the endless cycle of this earth and find my peace.
Friday, September 04, 2009
The tension in the air at work is palpable now….dreading the worst, yet still believing there are miracles to be had. We smile, joke, encourage and offer shoulders to cry on and listening ears. We are all embarking on a new and unmapped road: both those whose lives will be turned upside down by the loss of a job or demotion and those who will be left. The survivors face the yet, unopened envelope of future duties and responsibilities with the eye of a skydiver leaving the plane on their first jump. We grieve our anticipated losses, feeling powerless, unwilling carried forward by the unrelenting winds of change. We go home to face our families or just the empty rooms where we live alone and seek to ameliorate our fears.