written July 2014
Blowin’ through the wind
along about May I started thinking about the wind, how great it feels sweeping over the arms and face during many months in the Northeast.
I also thought about how darn right evil it feels in mid February: searing through whatever puffy nylon armaments I might be wearing.
this summer, I’ve also been watching the wind, the way it moves the cattails this way and that way, apart and together, like a well choreographed dance.
one day, driving past an old friend’s cottage on Seneca Lake, I looked up at a tree swaying in the wind, bent in the late afternoon sunlight.
I thought about how the winds of time just keep blowing forward~
wondered if there was any way to go back 30 plus years to
the cottage near the creek…
to water ski slalom; to throw my head under the fast moving waters of Hector Falls on a Memorial Day; to eat Mom’s macaroni salad with the green olives and sour cream, Faye’s potatoes, and Cara’s green bean casserole?
to wonder if my Parents and their friends would ever stop playing the “What time precisely will the sunset?” game.
a few days later I learned one of the friends, a contemporary, lost his wife.
no going back, what was I thinking, whole lives have been lived since that time…
lives just blowing through the wind.