Tuesday, November 4, 2014


Sunday morning brought to me an act of nature never before witnessed. Nothing significant or out of the ordinary so far as in the fact that the event, itself, isn’t a yearly occurrence. It’s perfectly normal at this time of year for trees to shed their foliage. With the overnight drop in temperature taking us down to 27 degrees, however, the leaves on the magnolia in my front yard, still somewhat wet from the previous day’s drizzle, must have frozen in such state; and the sun, now rising over the hills to the east, was melting the only thing yet holding them to the branches. Watching from my kitchen window, I marveled as, not just one, here and there, floated to the ground, but indeed they fell like raindrops, in multitude, the light reflecting off their dampness and the whole picture like one out of a Disney cartoon. In the matter of a few short minutes, some ninety-five percent of the limbs were bare, a leaf here, another there, yet attached, surviving momentarily, but enough of a pile below for me to fill five huge bags after church. Glimpses of God in my life, likewise, have been temporary encounters wherein my eyes were suddenly opened and cleansing took place. If such events were almost always illuminating, occasions of realizing the warmth of His presence, it nonetheless remained afterwards that enough of “me” was left, humanity as it exists, to ensure the old man was going to need another “foot-washing” somewhere down the road. Someone spoke recently of “going back” twenty or thirty years, this recent resetting of our clocks having sparked such thought, no doubt, and I declined the possibility should it ever be there. Memories are enough for this old man. It’s easy there to lose all my ignorance along the way, recall the good things and laugh. Even if reliving it all, with the knowledge of where my actions and decision took me, would bring changes, who I am would still be who I am, humanity with lessons to learn, a stumble down the path. This, therefore, remains a journey for me and I’m more drawn to what yet lies before me, believing there is indeed something beyond the grave. Too much for me to conceive, but tugging at me in spite of the enigma, stepping beyond the veil somehow not feared…….


  1. Wow, that must have been quite a wondrous sight! Timing is everything.

    There's a movie called Galaxy Quest which is a comedy parodying science fiction TV series such as Star Trek and the like. Quite funny. In it, they find a device called the Omega 13 which as it turns out, turns time back 13 seconds, "enough to redeem a single mistake."

    Of course, I realize that turning back time would not solve anything because even if I knew enough to make better choices in one area, I would likely blunder in another. But it is the stuff of stories and on occasion my mind goes there.

    But another thing that I ponder about time is what was happening 20, 30 or 100 years ago wherever I happen to be. Who was occupying this very space? What was happening? Whatever that happened to be, it was just as important as what is happening in the present. And how many have been through here?

    See what happens when you wake up too many times at 4 in the morning?

    1. I'm thinking Galaxy Quest was a Tim Allen spoof, one I missed, however, whoever was in it. Comedy, for the most part, doesn't draw me. It has to be a certain genre of humor, this old man yet into puns, Red Skelton, Taxi (I could watch that skit where Jim is getting help with his driver's license written test again and again). Taxi, indeed, is probably the last "funny" television sitcom Beth and I watched with any regularity. On the other hand, Star Trek (missed by me in the 60s, being overseas in the Navy) and any sort of outer space science fiction is a bit of a passion with me. Beth shakes her head at me and it, wondering what makes it any different from the other nonsense I spurn. Don't know; but Avatar was a must! Time travel flicks draw me in. I see it as possibility, part of all the enigma that's out there. Don't know as I've ever looked back and questioned "who was occupying this very space?" but often wonder what occupied other people's mind, what it would have been like to "be there". It doesn't have to be 4 in the morning, either.