Tuesday, December 1, 2009


Just took a pretty brisk walk, several blocks, in the cool, crisp, air.

A bright and shiny day, at times almost chilly, but felt so good to be out and feeling stronger.

The caw of a lone crow was so sharp and clarion, it felt like the definition of what it means to be alive.

The last leaves still falling, the endless (we hope) natural cycles.

How wonderful and fine life is when the possibility of losing it becomes so current and realistic.

To be alive, what can disturb the awe of that realization? Today, nothing.


Elisabeth said...

How good it is that you are alive, that you've been out walking and are able write this here now.

The caw of that crow seems to me to be more real than any old crow. Seen through your eyes, freshly heard and introduced here on the page, post surgery and in the shadow of death as it were, it gives that crow's call a brilliance all of its own.

That to me is the essence of writing and of life.

Jamie Rose said...

Ah, gorgeous post Lals. Needed that.

Anonymous said...

a jew said" where your treasure lies there will your heart be also" how simple it is when the treasure is your life.

Miles said...

Well said Dad.