Sunday, October 25, 2009 5PM On the deck overlooking the back yard, only a little chilly. Neighbors have turned off their leaf blowers and I can imagine their pride of power and a bright green lawn. crickets and birds, a distant dog’s bark , The sun is behind the top of the trees in the yard now but the green and gold and amber leaves have become incandescent. Reading Wm F. Schulz’s little essay[1] in UU World from last winter. He was head of Amnesty International and exposed to the vicarious experience of unrelenting evil for over a decade. But he spoke also of the grace often on the other side. I began to think of assembling a little sermon on “fear.”
I have a daughter who may or may not have daughters who may or may not have daughters themselves …I have students who may or may not have students, and so on…
Some days, I feel like I have come to the crest of time. An event horizon. Poised at the angle of repose soon to join a cascade over the edge when the flicker of an eyelash a mile away triggers the tipping point.
[1] http://www.uuworld.org/life/articles/121286.shtml

Driving home...

After a long Fall break weekend in Asheville (we saw Tosca, the annual Bonsai exhibition), WE impulsively chose to drive the Blue Ridge Parkway home to Knoxville ... We saw the clouds above but went anyway ... an adventure. But then we were IN the clouds, we were part of them. The Parkway is narrow and we felt very safe. As we drove through the clouds the world revealed itself to our senses slowly, sensuously ... the gorgeous colors of death preceding rebirth emerged from the mist, resonating with other myths I live by. The little mysteries of "what next" echoed the great mystery ... Blue Ridge mist / boughs of trees / … born before my eyes.