Monday, September 21, 2015

Last Summer Night

Quite often when I look up from the back step as Ducky does his business before bed, or stand out in the yard under the stars, the sight of the Big Dipper takes me back to the veranda of a little cabin in northern New Brunswick.
There, the constellations seemed even larger and closer than they do here. Were we further north? Or was it that the yard was more heavily treed and so the Dipper was framed somehow, making it the sky’s main event?
But it is so, here, too.
It was beautiful there, then, and it’s beautiful here, now.

And I can’t help going back, in my mind, to the girl I was, and telling her where I am 36 years later: still awed and comforted by nature, still seeking frequent solitude, still sharing the dazzling night sky with no one.

The Hug

I can feel great heaps of fond affection for people standing in front of me, and none when they are not.

Is that normal? I mean, common?

It's not that I dislike or don't care about them when they're not in my presence.
But sometimes I'm unaware of my fondness for others till I find myself going in for the hug.