Category Archives: Life

Cat on the left. Owl on the right.

Last night at about 2:30, I woke and noticed our cat was sitting on the windowsill and looking out at the night. There was a large moon and the darkness was bright, and I was awake but not really. But then I noticed the cat’s ears and understood that I had been looking at the night only as framed by her ears. Which surprised me. And then a second surprise. In the tree directly outside the window sat an owl, a Barred owl. He was facing the house, was brightened just slightly by the moon, and appeared to be looking in the window. I looked at the cat, then at the owl, the cat on the left, the owl on the right, and wondered if they were they looking at each other, if there was some vague connection. I kept watching, but nothing happened. Nothing but mystery and the beauty of mystery. And that’s all. That’s how it was last night roundabout 2:30. Cat, owl, man, plus a moon inching towards tomorrow.

SLEEPOVER!!

Some of you will remember my daughter Quetzal, how I once wrote often of her and me and us and our father/daughter times together. That was then. This is now. Quetzal is 13, taller than you would think, and bursting with a primal life-force. That and sleepovers. Which is to say we do sleepovers at our house in a big way. Six/eight girls at a time in the loft overnight and bellied up to the table in the morning. Continue reading

Today, Sunday

Today, Sunday, and maybe not so different then last week’s Sunday and the one before and before. Same air, same house, same mountain water edging the roadside down. The corn shocks I stood up in October still stand in the field, and without doubt the turkeys, 15 of them, will shadow the farm’s west side at approximately 10:30 on their daily pass-by going I don’t know where. The habits of life. The pieces of living. The mundanity, the beauty. The absurdity, the transcendence. Continue reading

On My Wife’s Birthday.

Today is my wife’s birthday. She is 53. We met in Virginia when she was 18 and I was 24. One day I asked my roommate’s girlfriend if she knew any beautiful women. “I do,” she said. “My roommate.” And she giggled and walked away.

The next day after classes, I climbed the stairs to my apartment, messed around in the kitchen, and then stepped into the living room.  And there on the sofa was a woman: shy, thin, smiling, beautiful. Her name was Serita.

I don’t remember what we first said. But I do remember that I immediately sat down on a chair opposite her, and that we talked and laughed, and that talking and laughing (and looking at her) was kind of otherworldly.

A day or so later I saw her on campus and we talked again, and that evening we went walking on the hill behind the college dorms. We walked up and back, then sat on a bench, and then I walked her to her dorm room.

Serita and I have been married for 35 years.

(If you scroll down, you will come to a post titled “Wherein My Wife Takes a Turn.” It’s a video. Serita shows up in the third feature.)

Alive to the Abundance #2

Sometimes in good weather after I’ve delivered Quetzal to school, I take the long way home. And often on these drives I pass an elderly man out for his morning walk. He’s close to ninety years, I’d say, bent and a bit shaky, but alert and still active.

This morning when I passed the man, he was standing in the grass just down the hill from his house. Continue reading