Do I know you as well as I know those I know in the flesh? Yes. Because in both ways of knowing, it’s really my imagination that creates you. Is this a way of saying I don’t know you at all, or that I know you ever so little? Yes. And that, too, is beautiful. Do you know me? Is that something I can ever know? I don’t know. Do […]
Tag Archive for ‘Chance Meetings’
It may seem a small matter, chancing to pass the house of a neighbor the very moment he is cursing vehemently in his driveway at six in the morning, his garage door open and garage brightly lit behind him; and it may seem an equally small matter, chancing to pass the same house the following evening and to have the scene repeated, with minor variations — this time he was […]
A few days ago, a wonderful little girl named Ella came to the door and said she was helping to raise money for her middle school band, and that I could aid her in this effort by purchasing a poinsettia for fifteen dollars. It happened that I had that much cash on hand, and so I happily gave it to her and put my name and address on her growing […]
In the grocery store, I met a gentle dog wearing an unnecessary muzzle. We looked into each other’s eyes — ah! and if I may put it so, we exchanged souls. But the one who’d placed the muzzle there looked through me and beyond, like a window in the cold. And through it I saw another chance — I saw it come, and saw it go.
I acquire bits of knowledge as if I were stringing beads. But there is no knot at the end. And the older beads slip off into my lap. From there I take them up and hold them to the light. And back on the string, they are new again. The stream that leads to the falls at the north end of the park is running low, and much of its […]
In the parking lot, just as we were setting out on our hike, a young woman said to me, “You look like Gandalf. All you need is the staff.” Her friends all smiled. And when I said, “I’ve heard that before,” they all laughed, and smiled some more. At the falls I thought, How can we not be friends? And the ferns bowed their heads.
If I were planning to be away from home for a long time, I would close the doors and windows, make sure the lights and stove were off, and stop delivery of the mail. I would not plant anything that needed water or attention to survive. It strikes me, though, that with this journal and writing space and place for drawings, I’m doing just the opposite. Expecting to be called […]