‘It is a good day for a woods walk,’ Billy B said. ‘Storms are promised but not yet,’ Billy B observed. ‘Let us walk among our friends the trees,’ he explained. ‘The powerful are looking the other way as they gain from their insider knowledge of the stock market, we will hide in the sun and the shade with those who seek truth,’ Billy B poetically remarked.

‘I hear there’s a Preacher in the woods,’ JB said. ‘Chet heard him the other day and thought his voice was unique…like rushing water and whip-poor-wills,’ JB said. ‘Many are gathering to hear him in secret under the roof of the woods,’ JB winked. ‘Preacher says love each other and seek peace with all men and women.’ ‘Accept those different than you and learn from them, listen to your heart and not your anger and hurt, Preacher says,’ JB noted. ‘Preacher says that he has been bullied and called names, shunned and marginalized by the powerful and co-opted by the elite for their own political purposes,’ JB said. ‘Preacher says his mom watched him suffer,’ JB said with tears.

‘Mary, Preacher’s friend says he is misunderstood by established religion…they fear him and the message he brings of love and acceptance,’ Jane said. ‘He visited them in their church, but they conspired against him,’ Jane explained.

‘Hosannah in the highest…the Messenger is here riding upon a donkey, let us place palm leaves in his path,’ The Throng shouted! ‘Preacher has the answer for our woes and concerns…he will smite the powerful and lay low those who oppress us…he will avenge the wrongs we have suffered,’ The Throng announced.

‘Lo, here is Christ, or there; believe it not.’ Matt 24:23

Playgrounds are fun. In my day, there were monkey bars. They had no safety padding. The ground was covered with rocks. Accidents happened. There was the merry-go-round. It was great sport to see how fast it could be pushed and still hold on. We held on tighter when a kid fell off due to the centrifugal force. My favorite was the seesaw. Sitting on either side of the painted board seat attached to a metal base, we held each other in the air. Kids with less weight would plead to be let back to earth by others who had heft. The playground was a jungle of survival of the fittest.

Teachers were convinced that fresh air was the panacea for all ailments. At recess, it was time to go to the playground unless it was freezing, and even then, at times. I had a winter hat that had flaps that buckled at the top of the hat, or when extended, buckled under my chin. Winters were cold in the early 60s.

‘Yesterday we were in consternation over our investments, today they are recovering,’ He said. ‘What will tomorrow bring?’ He continued. ‘It reminds me of my youth on the seesaw where Chet would hold me in the air due to his corpulence,’ He said.

‘Yes, the seesaw and playgrounds in general had a joy and dread at once,’ She said. ‘I was full of joy on the merry-go-round until my friends and others pushed it so fast that I could not hold on,’ She laughed ironically. ‘Our playground had happy laughter and in the dark corner someone being bullied with no one to help,’ She noted with a tear. ‘Happy sounds came from many, bitter sadness came from the few selected for abuse by leaders of the pack,’ She whispered.

‘Teacher seemed blind to bullying,’ Chet said. ‘Preferring to let kids defend themselves, it was truly the survival of the fittest absent compassion or justice,’ Chet continued. ‘Even when abuse happened, the Principal smiled a crooked smile and sent the bullied back to class,’ Chet said sadly. ‘On the playground, many felt accepted, loved with a sense of place, while others looked for a friend,’ Chet noted.

‘The athletic ruled sometimes benevolently, other times dismissively,’ He said. ‘If you could hit the ball straight and run fast, you were at home on the playground,’ He noted. ‘Other abilities went unnoticed in the playground pecking order,’ He said.

‘People are being deported without advanced notice, without time to settle their affairs and gather their possessions,’ She said. ‘They are removed from their universities without question by authorities,’ She continued. ‘The accepted group in our country has little to worry about as they laugh and enjoy their lives while those who are different are bullied with no one watching or caring,’ She said.

‘Hold on, stay cool, trust me,’ the President said. ‘I know what I am doing,’ the President continued. ‘Enjoy the better view from the top of the see-saw and try not to fall off the merry-go-round,’ the President admonished. ‘Have I shown you my golf swing?’ he asked.

It is a chilly day in April. Reminiscent of winter. Warm days are coming. On cold days, we remind ourselves of the Sun’s power. What a magnificent home we humans have. In a cold, dark universe, we enjoy abundant life. We have been to the moon but did not stay. The moon has no place for us without technology. Earth is our natural habitat. A walk in the woods reveals our sense of place. The rustling waters of a full creek and the blooming of our native Red Bud trees say we are home. ‘Pull off your coat and throw it in the corner,’ Bob Wills told us. The woods ask us to stay a little longer.

I am on the Writing Porch in the spring chill. It is my place to be. Looking out on our pond and listening to the birds sing brings new life to the old man. The nicest roofing person estimated my needs for roofing after a small leak in our master bedroom during the torrential rains this weekend. He discovered he could fix the problem in a few minutes and charged me nothing. That is extraordinary customer service! My belief in the kindness of others is renewed.

Storms have visited our neck of the woods frequently the last few weeks, and life storms are visiting our nation. We must be careful not to be co-opted for political expediency. This has happened throughout history—it is nothing new. If a political leader cares about you, watch what they do, not what they say. Are you getting poorer when they promised you prosperity? Are you losing your job for no reason but spite? Even Jerry Seinfeld could not return a jacket that he did not want for the reason of spite…

A settled mind brings calm. Purpose brings peace. Today is our life, not tomorrow or yesterday. We must live in the moment. We change. I am not who I was when I was 20. Positive change is a good thing. Bias and prejudice, conspiracy theories, and following an authoritarian leader are destructive. Wrapping the garment of exclusivity around us for warmth leads to frostbite. Trusting in the tender care of a narcissistic despot leads to sorrow.

Spirituality is real. We are spiritual beings in corporal bodies. We seek to see the face of God. We are journeying together on our way home. Our present reality is not all that there is. There is more just ahead and around the next corner. There is peace amid the storm.

‘It seems late for the Circus to start,’ Billy B remarked. ‘I remember the performances being held during the day or evening, not after midnight,’ Billy B said. ‘The elephants look sleepy,’ Billy B observed.

‘I have been told that there is always a mystery performance at the Night Circus,’ Chet said. ‘Something unexpected and strange,’ Chet explained. ‘At one show, the zebras danced with the rhinoceros,’ Chet winked.

‘I have always loved the Night Circus,’ Neva J proclaimed. ‘Once a lady came up to me and said she was me 30 years from now,’ Neva J looked wide-eyed. ‘She appeared younger than I am now and had flowing white hair to her waist,’ Neva J explained. ‘The lady at the Night Circus told me that there were many things I did not understand regarding life in the shadows. ‘The Ringleader appeared with a beachball-sized head and a cupi doll grin painted on his face,’ Neva J shuddered. ‘Ringleader said wrong is right and up is down,’ Neva J whispered. ‘His plastered expression was immovable, his eyes were darting constantly and full of malice,’ Neva J cried.

‘In this corner, we have for your entertainment enjoyment people who demonstrate that they can not compete in the arena of survival of the fittest,’ Ringleader proclaimed. ‘In the middle ring we have races of people who are not Americans, although they have citizenship, see how they gather together for protection,’ Ringleader said with his static grin. ‘In the far ring, we have the humble and basic losers who attest that Christianity means to love everyone,’ Ringleader danced on one foot and then the other.

‘Are we in heaven or in hell?’ Jane asked. ‘Have we lost the plot and veered off onto a side road on the path of life?’ Jane commented. ‘I see the Civil Rights movement alongside the abolition of all things Diversity,’ Jane exclaimed!

‘Avoid the Night Circus,’ the Preacher said. ‘Its beauty is enticing its reality is frightening,’ the Preacher admonished. ‘Pray with me in the woods for a little while,’ the Preacher pleaded. ‘Soon the light will reveal what has been hidden in darkness,’ the Preacher said.

I was not a morning person until I retired. Now, Mylo has me up at 5 a.m. or before. He is a morning dog for a few minutes until he stretches beside me for a morning nap. Morning is a good time for clear thoughts. Perspective is keen. Hope is at its zenith.

Morning brings a clean slate. The chalkboard has been erased and washed. New chalk in the tray. The darkness of the night is illuminated. Ghosts we saw in the shadows evaporate. Night worries have become day plans. Peace comes easy in the morning. Quietly and serene with no bluster. We can do what needs to be done. We can succeed. No one will hold us back.

Unease is on our horizon. The feeling of misstep is with us. Good hard hard-working people are losing their jobs for no reason. People whose skills are needed. Important work is looked at with no pity. Seniors are being hurt. The world’s economy is experiencing an earthquake, and we are the recipients of the shaking. Our leaders promise that we are taxing other countries and that we will get rich from the proceeds. Our leaders are taxing us with massive increases in the price of groceries and automobiles…all consumer goods. We need a little Good Morning.

The outcry of the rich is a massive call. ‘Do not hurt my money,’ Rich proclaim! ‘If you want to be re-elected, stop the madness,’ Rich promises.

We awaken from a nightmare. We rub our burning eyes and wonder if it was a dream…or a terrible reality…

Lassie and the carrier pigeon knew how to come home. We are seeking the path. Most of us are well-intentioned. Our goal is the best for our kids and grandkids. Dark clouds cover us at times as we look for the Sun.

Empathy is real. We feel the pain of our friends and family. Americans are a giving people. No political party, church, or civic organization has cornered the market on love. When we see suffering, we remember our own distress. Someone helped us. Someone cared about our betterment. Many of us have benefited from the assistance of our human family, who have empathy for us.

‘Come in and join us for dinner,’ Jim said with a wide smile. ‘I know you must be hungry,’ Jim continued. ‘We are glad to have you at our table,’ Jim said as he patted the Poor Boy on the shoulder.

‘I am hungry, MaMa,’ Little Girl said. ‘I remember when we had ice cream and cake before Dad died,’ Little Girl said. ‘Dad sure did like coconut cake,’ Little Girl said with a tear in her eye.

Opening Day at Wrigley Field. The promise of Spring. The Stock Market is plummeting. Retirement accounts are evaporating like a snowball in July. Easter is just around the corner. Christ’s message of eternal hope. Life is worth living.

‘His church seems a bit out of the way,’ Traveller said. ‘I have heard that Preacher accepts the hungry and voiceless of society,’ Traveller noted. ‘Money is of no importance to him,’ Traveller observed.

‘I wonder how people find him in these thick woods,’ Mary said. ‘Preacher welcomed me when no one did,’ Mary observed. ‘He seems to see the heart rather than the poorly clothed body,’ Mary whispered. ‘Preacher asks my advice on important matters…often before he asks his other male assistants,’ Mary smiled. ‘Preacher makes no difference in the abilities of women and men,’ Mary noted.

‘We are all travelers,’ the Preacher said. ‘The Journey towards our home is full of sideroads,’ the Preacher said. ‘We need each other and owe our loyalty to all of God’s creation,’ the Preacher noted. ‘We’re not going to make the trip alone…we need the help of our fellow travelers,’ P said.

Hand in hand, the nomads travelled home. Some were sick, some were pushed in wheelchairs. All races were there. Gay travellers were there. Transgender people were there. The Tribe of Humanity was Homeward Bound…

I and my family have been privileged to join my dear brother and sister in law at Miramar Beach, near Destin, Florida, for the past six years.  The …

May’s Magical Moment

Tornadoes were everywhere last evening. This morning has the freshness of a new day. The ripcord ride of the rollercoaster. The life that we love so much and all of its surprises.

‘Today we will find him,’ Jane said. ‘He stays in the garden,’ Jane added. ‘Peter loves an adventure,’ Jane laughed. ‘He is a scamp, you realize…he likes tricks,’ Jane winked. ‘He invited me to live in the garden with him, but I told him I had to attend classes,’ Jane grinned. ‘Peter answered that we would go to Oxford and take rooms next to C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, she said. Peter tells me that he has enjoyed many a warm pint of Bitters at the Bird And Baby Pub, as they called the Eagle And Child,’ she said.

‘When you introduced me to Peter, I saw no one,’ Chet said. ‘I witnessed you having a running conversation with him but could only hear your side,’ Chet noted. ‘I did see the glimpse of a light blue jacket behind you, but before I could focus it vanished,’ Chet explained.

‘Welcome to the Bird And Baby,’ C.S. said with an outstretched hand. ‘J.R.R. and Peter are in the back with some Bitters,’ C.S. winked. ‘Peter has some life advice,’ C.S. smiled.

‘PR says to keep your friends close and your enemies closer,’ J.R.R. said with a wink. ‘PR is slurring his words a little…he has had several pints,’ J.R.R. grinned. ‘PR says that we will have a nice Easter as he has prepared much fun for those who like a good time,’ J.R.R. informed with a sly grin. PR knows the President and has a desk in the corner of the Oval Office, although he is not seen due to his peculiar habit of invisibility, J.R.R. laughed.

‘Elon is leaving,’ PR said as if the air was speaking. ‘He stayed around long enough to mess everything up, and now he is on to his next project, ‘ PR observed. ‘I drove his car it was not my cup of tea,’ PR winked. ‘Better days are coming as the promise of Easter tells us,’ PR said. ‘Storms and darkness just before the dawn,’ PR danced as he drank his Bitters pint…Down In One…

It has been a stormy couple of weeks. A forecast of historic rain is with us until Sunday. As I attempted to exit the Subaru this morning, the wind pushed so hard against the door that it was all I could do to open it. Trees are falling before the main event. Tumolt comes in a moment.

Confusion and disorder are the present distress. ‘Clowns on the left of me, Jokers to the right, Here I am stuck in the middle with you.’

We seek shelter from the storm. A place to hide until the rage passes over.

‘A storm is coming,’ Old Man said. ‘I saw it in a dream,’ Old Man continued. ‘People hid in the woods, OM said. ‘The trees sheltered us and we could see the storm clouds pass by,’ OM observed.

‘Stay with me for a season,’ the Preacher said. ‘I have seen storms before,’ P noted. ‘Here we will speak of peace and sense of place,’ P advised. ‘Clear thoughts will be our guide, love for each other will be our doctrine,’ the Preacher assured. ‘While elected leaders seek their own welfare, we will seek the best for each other,’ the Preacher promised with sad eyes.

‘Who was in your dream?’ Old Woman asked? ‘Was there anyone we knew?’ Old Woman asked. ‘How bad was the storm?’ OW asked.

‘The high places were leveled as hurting people sought help from their political heroes, ‘ Old Man said. ‘The heroes turned their frightened eyes and gaping mouths from their people as they ran for their lives,’ Old Man said. ‘There was no sound of cymbals or the tinkling of brass from the leader…only manic fear,’ Old Man said softly.

‘The world is quiet now,’ Boy said. ‘No more fighting about slogans and tribal conflict,’ Boy said. ‘There is planting and harvesting…reading and discussion…everyone is interested in their neighbor’s welfare,’ Boy joyfully noted…