The biggest mystery is ourselves. We travel through life with accumulated baggage. Childhood trauma and the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Often, I have heard people say that they act in the manner that they do because that is who they are. What made them who they are? Understanding others is a challenge, and understanding ourselves can be more so.

The Sun is setting a minute sooner each day. Daylight and dark are changing places. Soon, the cool of the evening will have a fall chill. Waiting turns to hope. We are looking for something. We have been told somewhere in the recesses of the past of its coming. At times in the darkness, we catch a glimpse of the Gift. It is magnificent and mysterious. It cannot be described in usual terms. It is complex and ethereal. At times, we think about it in the Woods. When the birds are singing, a rabbit watches us. We watch back and say, Hello, Mr. Rabbit.’

‘Are you looking for the Gift this morning?’ Mr. Rabbit asks. ‘I saw it in a dream once when I was young,’ Mr. Rabbit notes. ‘A Shadow crossed our cottage door, and the Gift said softly, ‘Come and see.’ Mr. Rabbit explained. ‘When I told MaMa about the Shadow and what he told me, she admonished me to not speak of mysteries and eat my porridge,’ Mr. Rabbit said. ‘MaMa did not like to meddle,’ Mr. Rabbit explained. ‘The Shadow passes through the Woods often speaking of the Gift,’ Mr. Rabbit said. ‘The Shadow told us that all creation is waiting on the Gift.

There is a shared memory. There is a communal thought. There is an understanding of the Gift. We wrestle with angels and devils to peek at it. We began somewhere else. This is not our complete Origin Story. Long ago, there was the sound of soft rustling and singing. Once we heard the choir of the angels singing with God. They were singing of the Gift. We remember, and then there are the dishes to do. We must get the kids ready for bed. Work in the morning, and a deadline to meet. Barbecue this weekend, swimming, golf, and a picnic on Sunday. Summer is fleeting as it always is. There is the diet and the slips. Loss and gain. Stocks are up, they are down. Rollercoasters are fun at the fair. The excitement takes your breath away. What will happen next? The Shadow watches us from the Cotton Candy Stand. The Shadow sees that we are watching him. We forgot the Gift temporarily. Now we are focused again. We wait as the bullfrogs sing. The little boy walks his dog and skips stones on the pond. The dog looks into the horizon. He is waiting for the Gift.

‘It is impossible to build a program of logic on diverse facts,’ Mr. Finance said. ‘You can not make it up as you go along,’ Mr. Finance observed. ‘Not so long ago, we agreed on facts,’ Mr. Finance observed. ‘There is an order to finance people invest in surity,’ Mr. Finance assured. ‘It is only a matter of time, I fear,’ Mr. Finance said.

‘The flowers are beautiful,’ Ethereal Lady said. ‘How long have you been walking in the Woods?’ Ethereal Lady asked. ‘I have seen you before and in different seasons,’ Ethereal Lady noted. ‘You capture what you see,’ Ethereal Lady said with a smile.

‘It seems I have been in the Woods for a day or two, but then again, I lose track of time when I am here,’ Old Man said. ‘My photos tell me it has been years,’ the Old Man mused. ‘I am looking for the Gift,’ the Old Man said with a wink.

‘What is man, that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou vistitest him?’ Psalms 8:4