Gas is four dollars a gallon. The price is rising daily. Affordability is an issue in our country. It is St. Patrick’s Day. Celebration ensues. Spring is at our door and turning the handle. My yard service will begin cutting grass next week. We are in the midst of challenges and blessings. It has always been so. The Old Man settled his heart to gain perspective. All is not lost. A sense of place is important.

‘We shall visit the cemetery early this year,’ Neva J said. ‘I read Lincoln In The Bardo, and I want to see if Grandma A. is waiting for us,’ Neva J continued. ‘I want to hear her words of wisdom,’ Neva J announced. ‘She told me that she would meet me on St. Patrick’s Day in 2026,’ Neva J said with a smile. ‘When she told me just before she died in 1968, I doubted that I would still be alive…but here I am and ready for the meeting,’ Neva J said. ‘Grandma A was the wisest person I have ever known…she will have insight as to what we should do in our world of today,’ Neva J said. ‘I hope she has not forgotten our meeting after all of these years,’ Neva J mused.

‘Hello, Little One,’ Grandma A said. ‘I have been waiting these 58 years to talk with you,’ Grandma A continued. ‘I have moved on from the cemetery but came back to speak with you and Billy B Chet and Jane,’ Grandma A continued. ‘It is much different over here than any human knows,’ Grandma A noted. ‘Many have regrets that they did not help others more during their life,’ Grandma A mused. ‘What I see of the world is increasingly concerning…We have left our manners behind and embraced barbarism,’ Grandma A continued. ‘Here there is mystery and magic…hope and regret…a better place and yet not the nirvana that many have hoped for…there is still work to do,’ Grandma A said quietly. ‘God’s plan is beyond our comprehension…we get there a little at a time…step by step,’ Grandma A whispered. ‘Would you like to peek behind the Great Veil?’ Grandma A asked. ‘It is really a trip, man…as the kids in the 60s said,’ Grandma A laughed.

‘How shall we prepare for what is beyond the Veil?’ Jane asked. ‘Shall we wear sunglasses or avert our eyes?’ Jane continued. ‘We are accustomed to brown Earth and blue sky…green grass and the physical parameters of our condition,’ Jane continued. ‘Will the glory of the hidden be too much for us?’ Jane exclaimed. ‘I see a beautiful horizon…brilliant colors…peace where there was war…full bellies where there was hunger… no pain or suffering and smiles on everyone’s faces,’ Jane observed.

‘We are beyond the Veil now,’ Grandma A said. ‘Here he struggles with humanity are gone, but the strife of the spirit remains,’ Grandma A continued. ‘Many are supportive of the present political distress…freedom of thought and will are inviolate in God’s creation,’ Grandma A noted. ‘Some are still warlike but have no weapons…others are still concerned about their own welfare more than their brother and sister,’ Grandma A said. ‘We are on the second rung of God’s ladder to Heaven…there are more to climb.

‘I hear the sound of singing,’ Chet said. ‘It sounds like rushing water and a flock of doves,’ Chet noted. ‘People are laying down their guns and sitting by the water…they are weeping and smiling…laughing altogether,’ Chet smiled. ‘They are waiting for a Speaker while the children play games and the old people speak together,’ Chet continued. ‘This appears to be a special day,’ Chet whispered.

‘Welcome all…this is the beginning of our work…our adventure…our joy,’ said the Preacher…

Something seemed off. There was a wind warning. When was the last time we had a wind warning? The wind warning was before the main event. The temperature was forecast to drop 40 degrees overnight. The ill wind meshed with the way the people felt. Time seemed frozen on the black Sunday. Many were lost in their thoughts. They had hurt others. They pushed the guilt from their minds, but today it all came back. Certainly, they were of the elite. Learning to destroy those who are weaker than you and then claim their property and wealth. It has been said, ‘To the victor belongs the spoils.’ A tree fell onto Giant City Road. How would that feel if it fell on your head? Unrest was in the air. The satisfied assurance of being in the right waned as the wind picked up. We are vulnerable. All made of flesh and bone. The Proprieters of propaganda were strangely absent. The Wicked Wind was present.

‘This is a Wind like I have never seen,’ Chet said. ‘When it strikes you in the face, it causes reflection of the soul,’ Chet noted. ‘How did we arrive here?’ Chet asked. ‘Has it been God’s plan for us to rise to the top of the Heap by stepping on the weak?’ Chet said. ‘We tell those whom we bomb and kill that we love them…it is a funny way to express love,’ Chet mused. ‘Many are coming out of their homes and standing in the street to assess the wind and what it brings,’ Chet noted. ‘I remember a distant time where we loved each other and helped each other…if our neighbor was hungry we fed them…if they were cold we took them in…if they wept we dried their tears,’ Chet said softly. ‘Jesus ministered to the poor and loved them, Chet said. ‘Christ neither sought the rich nor gave them special place in his movement…he said it was harder for a rich man to enter the kingdom of Heaven than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle,’ Chet explained. ‘Remember when we welcomed the stranger as the scripture has taught,’ Chet asked. ‘Have we ended up in Hell and never knew when it happened,’ Chet postulated.

‘I fear our two-by-six walls will not hold in this terrible wind,’ the Leader said. ‘This house is hurricane proof, according to the builder,’ the Leader noted. ‘How is it that this mysterious wind has arisen and we were not told about its coming,’ the Leader said. ‘We have prepared…we have prevailed…we are the chosen…and yet the Wind,’ the Leader said. ‘Who shall we blame for our calamity,’ the Leader beamoaned. ‘This freakish weather must have come from the countries we want to bar from our shores,’ the Leader exclaimed. ‘Excuse me, but I must go to the bunker in the White House due to my importance,’ the Leader informed.

‘The days have changed since I was a girl,’ Neva J said. ‘Once we were all poor and helped each other…one family had apples, and another had chicken…all of us ate something if it was no more than persimmons we found in the woods,’ Neva J said. ‘Persimmons are good when you are hungry,’ Neva J laughed. ‘Leaders spoke of helping others and being servant/leaders,’ Neva J noted. ‘Somehow we entered the time of every person for themselves… no compassion… no love…only how much money can I gain,’ Neva J said somberly. ‘I have read of Hades and have read Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy,’ Neva J said. ‘Do people in Hell know that they are in Hell?’ Neva J asked.

‘Come, my friends, we have a place to gather in the Woods,’ the Preacher said. ‘We shall hide from the Wind for a while,’ the Preacher admonished. ‘Change has occurred, and most do not realize it,’ the Preacher explained. ‘Many will be taken in the Wind,’ the Preacher said. ‘We have trusted in our own strength and the diminishment of others,’ the Preacher said. ‘Now the Mysterious Wind of Change is here, and all of us will suffer,’ the Preacher said.

The winds howled all day Sunday. Our phone weather alarms sounded, and we trekked to the basement. The uncertainty is like a thick cloud. Today, the temperature has dropped 40 degrees. Winter asks that we not forget him and that he will soon be back.

A time of change is upon us. We will put on our big adult clothing and set about doing what good people should do. The blankets of winter are being stored, and now is the time to make hay while the sun shines. The flowers will bloom, and so shall we. Long hours of work are ahead, as well as long hours of play. Trips to be taken and adventures to be had. We shake the snow off our shoulders and rejoice to be children of the Sun. The clock has come full circle, and the clock begins.

‘I’m late…I’m late…for a very important date,’ the Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland proclaimed.’ So may we be if we do not take advantage of the bright days that soon get hot and then cool again.

‘This year we shall visit the past,’ Billy B said with assurance. ‘We will go to the Greatest Generation to see what made them so great,’ Billy B continued. ‘What made them go to war, and why did they do so?’ Billy B asked. ‘Were they like us or quite different?’ Billy B said. ‘Neva J waited on Dad as he fought in the Pacific,’ Billy B noted. ‘When they came home, the Baby Boom Generation came,’ Billy B laughed. ‘We fought Hitler and his scourge of Europe…Japan attacked us at Pearl Harbor…the boys had plans for weddings and home…many plans died in the battle,’ Billy B said softly.

‘Women went to work in the factories, Neva J told me,’ Jane said. ‘They made armanements for the men in the battle…everyone pulled together for a common goal,’ Jane continued. ‘Neva J spoke of her and her family searching for persimmons in the woods due to having no food during the Great Depression and then the War,’ Jane said. ‘Bill left for the Pacific in the spring when the trees were just budding out,’ Jane remembered Neva J’s words.

‘Dutch went missing in action in the spring,’ Neva J said. ‘Mom got the notice and we all cried and hoped he would be found…he never was,’ Neva J said. ‘Mom planted a Victory Garden each spring in memory of Dutch,’ Neva J noted. ‘I used to sit by the Garden and watch the sun set over the horizon and see the shadow of a man standing nearby,’ Neva J said in a whisper. ‘My brother was there in the Garden with me,’ Neva J said with tears in her eyes.

I’ve read before that book collecting and book reading are two separate hobbies. The more I’ve pondered the statement, the more I’ve realized its …

The Read and Unread Library

Something seemed off. There was a wind warning. When was the last time we had a wind warning? The wind warning was before the main event. The temperature was forecast to drop 40 degrees overnight. The ill wind meshed with the way the people felt. Time seemed frozen on the black Sunday. Many were lost in their thoughts. They had hurt others. They pushed the guilt from their minds, but today it all came back. Certainly, they were of the elite. Learning to destroy those who are weaker than you and then claim their property and wealth. It has been said, ‘To the victor belongs the spoils.’ A tree fell onto Giant City Road. How would that feel if it fell on your head? Unrest was in the air. The satisfied assurance of being in the right waned as the wind picked up. We are vulnerable. All made of flesh and bone. The Proprieters of propaganda were strangely absent. The Wicked Wind was present.

‘This is a Wind like I have never seen,’ Chet said. ‘When it strikes you in the face, it causes reflection of the soul,’ Chet noted. ‘How did we arrive here?’ Chet asked. ‘Has it been God’s plan for us to rise to the top of the Heap by stepping on the weak?’ Chet said. ‘We tell those whom we bomb and kill that we love them…it is a funny way to express love,’ Chet mused. ‘Many are coming out of their homes and standing in the street to assess the wind and what it brings,’ Chet noted. ‘I remember a distant time where we loved each other and helped each other…if our neighbor was hungry we fed them…if they were cold we took them in…if they wept we dried their tears,’ Chet said softly. ‘Jesus ministered to the poor and loved them, Chet said. ‘Christ neither sought the rich nor gave them special place in his movement…he said it was harder for a rich man to enter the kingdom of Heaven than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle,’ Chet explained. ‘Remember when we welcomed the stranger as the scripture has taught,’ Chet asked. ‘Have we ended up in Hell and never knew when it happened,’ Chet postulated.

‘I fear our two-by-six walls will not hold in this terrible wind,’ the Leader said. ‘This house is hurricane proof, according to the builder,’ the Leader noted. ‘How is it that this mysterious wind has arisen and we were not told about its coming,’ the Leader said. ‘We have prepared…we have prevailed…we are the chosen…and yet the Wind,’ the Leader said. ‘Who shall we blame for our calamity,’ the Leader beamoaned. ‘This freakish weather must have come from the countries we want to bar from our shores,’ the Leader exclaimed. ‘Excuse me, but I must go to the bunker in the White House due to my importance,’ the Leader informed.

‘The days have changed since I was a girl,’ Neva J said. ‘Once we were all poor and helped each other…one family had apples, and another had chicken…all of us ate something if it was no more than persimmons we found in the woods,’ Neva J said. ‘Persimmons are good when you are hungry,’ Neva J laughed. ‘Leaders spoke of helping others and being servant/leaders,’ Neva J noted. ‘Somehow we entered the time of every person for themselves… no compassion… no love…only how much money can I gain,’ Neva J said somberly. ‘I have read of Hades and have read Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy,’ Neva J said. ‘Do people in Hell know that they are in Hell?’ Neva J asked.

‘Come, my friends, we have a place to gather in the Woods,’ the Preacher said. ‘We shall hide from the Wind for a while,’ the Preacher admonished. ‘Change has occurred, and most do not realize it,’ the Preacher explained. ‘Many will be taken in the Wind,’ the Preacher said. ‘We have trusted in our own strength and the diminishment of others,’ the Preacher said. ‘Now the Mysterious Wind of Change is here, and all of us will suffer,’ the Preacher said.

The Woods were especially lovely on this bright Saturday. The Old Man waited outside Mr Badger’s home. There was much to discuss about the coming Spring Fest. Mr Badger would have excellent ideas regarding enjoyable activities for both the human and animal kingdoms.

‘Welcome, my friend,’ Mr. Badger said with a wide smile. ‘I have been waiting on your arrival with Moley and Toad to join us in our planning meeting,’ Mr Badger winked. ‘Moley has forgotten his spectacles, so I have loaned him a pair of mine,’ Badger said. ‘Moley is very nearsighted and reluctant to admit it due to his pride,’ Badger noted. ‘The three of us have been kicking around the idea of inviting those with whom we disagree for fellowship food and dialogue,’ Badger continued. ‘I am breaking in my Skechers Slip-Ons as I hate to bend down to put on my shoes,’ Badger laughed. ‘I swear, why could the shoe manufacturers have invented such a wonderful, easy-to-put-on shoe years ago?’ Badger laughed heartily. ‘Toad Moley and I want to move the discussion of understanding forward in the Woods and beyond,’ Badeger noted.

‘I say my good man, you are looking fit in your leather outback hat and L.L. Bean coat,’ Toad noted with aplomb. ‘The three of us are looking for you to guide us in our quest to lower the anger temperature in our world,’ Toad said sincerely. ‘I have been driving my motor car for several days to think clearly,’ Toad noted. ‘Why do you humans hate your own kind if they look different from you?’ Toad asked. ‘Your species struggles for dominance of a hill or valley when you already control the Blue Orb,’ Toad postulated. ‘We Woods Dwellers live in harmony,’ Toady said. ‘Each of us has our own interests and hobbies, but we do not infringe on our neighbours,’ Toady explained. ‘The simplicity of harmony and sense of place is a beautiful thing,’ Toady said.

‘I think having those with whom we disagree is a lovely idea,’ the Old Man said with enthusiasm. ‘We can learn from each other and listen with a desire to understand the feelings of those around the table,’ the Old Man assured. ‘If we are going to move forward, we will either move together or continue in chaos,’ the Old Man said. ‘Throughout history, we have measured the success of humans by winners and losers when we should have measured by love for each other, the Old Man attested. ‘We drop bombs on our fellow humans and feel we are the victor when we demonstrate our limited mental acuity and emotional maturity,’ the Old Man said with a tear in his eye. ‘We have won no contents when we kill our sister or brother, the Old Man whispered. ‘We satiate a macho false construct that helps no one and hurts everyone, the Old Man continued. ‘Woe to us that call good evil and evil good,’ the Old Man said.

‘I know you are thirsty, Preacher…drink of the wine in my wine skin,’ the Profound Gentlemen said. ‘Name a place on the Earth…I have been there…Dubrovnik…I have been there,’ said the Profound Genteleman. ‘I love fine art and concerts in grand palaces…Chopin was my friend as well as Mozart,’ the Profound Gentleman continued. ‘I will give you the sweet and save the sour for myself…I will give you the power and the glory…the rule of all the kingdoms of the Earth…, and I will be your lowly advisor in the shadows,’ the Profund Gentlemen said with intensity.

‘What shall I do when I invite someone to our Spring Fest, and they tell me that I am less than them or not to be considered… not of their club,’ Moley asked. ‘I have often felt the cheek reddening of being rejected,’ Moley continued. ‘I hate the feeling, and then I wonder if they are right, and indeed I am not worthy of consideration,’ Moley noted. ‘Once I asked the Weasels to join me for dinner, and they laughed and poked fun at me and my poor eyesight,’ Moley said with pain. ‘I told them I would have Ale and Meade and that there would be no cover charge if they would honour me by joining me for Supper,’ Moley proclaimed with a pure heart.

‘Love one another as I have loved you,’ the Preacher said.

The Old Man laughed as Mr. Fox told him of his adventure. Mr. Fox had gone to the Fabulous Fox Theatre in St. Louis to see The Nutcracker in December before Christmas. Foxy wore his leather Outback hat and his black winter coat to the event. He had enjoyed an old-fashioned at the Theatre’s Bar before the performance. As the Theatre lights went down and the curtain went up, Foxy had a wonderful Fox Idea. He would perform in the production and dance with the mice and toy soldiers. Now this was a bit out of the ordinary, but then again, the performance was at the Fabulous Fox, and he fit the Playbill. It had been Foxy’s dream to be a theatre actor. He had read Shakespeare.

‘Look…Momie… a Fox is dancing with the mice and others,’ Jane said. ‘I do not remember a Fox in the performance when we saw it last year,’ Jane continued. ‘My goodness, he is light on his feet and has a winning smile,’ Jane observed.

‘I wonder if Mr. Fox is perhaps the producer of the production,’ Neva J said. ‘He appears to know every movement and is perfectly in sync with the music, Neva J continued. ‘In fact, he looks amazingly like my good friend Fred Fox from Giant City Woods,’ Neva J proclaimed.

‘Greetings, friends…join me for a drink in the Theatre Bar as it has been an exciting evening,’ Fred Fox said. ‘Most folks do not know that I am a creative consultant to the Ballet Company performing the Nutcracker,’ FF said with a wide Fox Smile. ‘The primary actor for the mice took sick today, and so I stepped in and, rather than put on the hot mouse costume, I chose to be myself in honor of our Fox Theatre Performance,’ FF laughed. ‘We fox think on our feet and have some wiles about us,’ FF winked. ‘We are also wild animals, but I hide my wildness very well,’ FF said as he took Neva J’s hand to enter the Bar for another Old Fashioned…

The day began like most of them do. There was more time to think since retirement. Even now, the days are not hard to fill. Thinking is a noble vocation. Many problems yield to concerted thought. Hypothesis requires analysis. Separating truth from fable takes research. Those who admonish us to simply trust them need examination.

Albert Einstein developed the core concepts of the theory of relativity, both special and general, in his mind through intense, visual thought experiments. (Gedarankenexperimenten), often pictured himself riding light beams or falling elevators. He used these mental simulations to visualize physical paradoxes and intuition, later translating them into mathematical frameworks.’

A truth becomes clear when we listen to rhetoric versus reality. Not everything that is said for fact is such. As children, we played follow the leader. We continue to follow, as adults, a charismatic, compelling speaker who can captivate our attention with the cadence of their words. We want to believe what we are told meshes with our thinking. Our peers nod their agreement with the Leader, but we do not want to disagree. After all, what the Leader says sounds promising.

‘Welcome, all come in and make yourself at home,’ the Speaker said. ‘Here we are set apart from the world and its evils,’ the Speaker said. ‘We are hidden from the world and set apart…we are the chosen,’ the Speaker assured. ‘We live communally and pool all of our assets for the good of the group,’ the Speaker continued. ‘We gather for Bible Study five times a week,’ the Speaker explained. ‘We are the light and all around us is darkness, we are a candle in the night,’ the Speaker whispered with tears in his eyes.

‘American for real Americans,’ the Leader said to thunderous applause. ‘We must purify our nation and our blood and soil,’ the Leader said. ‘Prices are going down every day…do not believe what your lying eyes tell you,’ the Leader said as he danced. ‘Do not listen to the Fake News or those who do not agree with me…I am always telling you the truth…the truth is what I say it is,’ the Leader laughed.

Many were quiet. It was difficult to understand what was happening. Understanding takes focus. It is easy to believe the story rather than investigate the truth. A lie runs around the block while the truth is still putting on its running shoes.

Spring is in the air. Green is making its presence known. In these early days, you have to look for the green, but soon it will be abundant. The brown of winter earth is still with us. The land where the snow lay heavily upon the ground. Trees lift their bare branches to the sky, looking for change. So it goes with us. Life looks static on its surface. Beneath the surface, a hidden world is preparing.

Christ spoke to the people of his day in parables. ‘A short tale that illustrates a universal truth.’ Discovering the truth in our modern days is a bit like a riddle contest. The problem with riddles is that you change the answers regularly. This would be the modus operandi of some in government. It is difficult to run for the goalpost when it keeps moving.

Word games and riddles are fun for kids, but they can be dangerous when lives are on the line. A joy of the French Quarter was seeing people who were not pretending. The life lines in their faces revealed their walk through the world. The joy in their music was a worshipful experience. Genuneness of spirit is exciting. Real is hard to beat. There is a magnetic connection with people of goodwill and singleness of purpose.

Fear is not the answer. Hiding from a Bully will not satiate him. Looking away from a housefire will not save the occupants.

‘The Leader says everyone should build a bomb shelter,’ Chet said. ‘He says we are under the threat of imminent attack,’ Chet continued. ‘He says he can not identify the attackers at this time for our own good but that we must build our war supplies in preparation,’ Chet continued.

‘Endless war refers to a state of perpetual, unresolved conflict, often characterized by unachievable goals, sustained military spending, and a lack of clear exit strategies.’

‘I have a lot I want to give you if you will just let me explain,’ the Kindly Old Man with the red eyes said. ‘I will give you all of the kingdoms of the Earth, and you will be my king and be loved by all,’ Kindly Old Man said with a quiet smile. ‘You are tired and hungry…you need sleep…all of these needs I will gladly fulfil for a leader of your skills,’ Kindly Old Man said. ‘Most men are motivated by their fear and lust…they will serve you gladly, and I will be at your right hand for advice when you need it,’ Kindly Old Man admonished.

We watch as the storm clouds gather. You can feel it in the air. Change is happening and not for good. It is in the eyes of the children. Fear is blowing in on the wind. It is difficult to see the big picture when the little things take our attention. Politics has always been a blood sport, we tell ourselves. Politicians lie we say as we watch the latest movie. We want to feel safe. We need security. We hope for peace…for us and those we know. Does this mean a lack of security and peace for those we have not met? Is the price of our happiness the unhappiness of the Others?

‘The Opera Houses are full, and the performances are better than they have ever been,’ Claus said. ‘My wife’s dress shop has never had so many customers, Claus continued. ‘Since we removed the Undesirables from our business community, we are flourishing,’ Claus laughed as he held his rotund belly. ‘We just finished moving all our furniture into a beautiful flat with ornate woodwork and a fine art fireplace in each room,’ Claus boasted. ‘The family that resided there before us was very rich and had many works of art on the walls which we are enjoying,’ Claus continued. ‘My daughter Nina wept when she saw her little friend Abigail cry as she was being ushered away to the Camp,’ Claus said. ‘Gretchen told her to weep no more as God in his providence had given us their flat and all that goes with it,’ Claus chuckled.

‘Iran has installed the son of the Supreme Leader as their new leader,’ Chet noted. ‘The king is dead…long live the king,’ Chet noted wryly.

‘A rationale is created to support every hypothesis,’ Neva J said. ‘It is easy to blame someone other than ourselves for our mistakes,’ Neva J continued. ‘We show no mercy, and a generation later mercy is not shown us,’ Neva J whispered. ‘We ask for understanding from those whom we have marginalized and hurt in the hope that they have short memories,’ Neva J noted. ‘Many must die to avenge the death of others, despots tell us as they bomb cavalierly and brag that they will take care of military conflicts over their lunch,’ Neva J wept. Raw power is exalted while quiet diplomacy is an orphan, Neva J noted.

The Old Man saw the dark clouds gather in the Woods. Dark clouds were also gathering in the minds of both leaders and their followers. Night was falling in midday. The birds ceased singing. The leaves stood still. Squirrels returned to their dens and the deer to their place of rest. The music was in a minor key.

Leaders watched in silence as the clouds gathered. They feared mental instability. They feared violence. They feared for their own safety more than the safety of those whom they represented.