Bright & Early

8/20/08 - I remember "Bright & Early" with Gregg Whiteside. How I miss him still. He was the early morning voice on WQXR, for years and years in NYC, on the classical radio station there. Then, suddenly, one day in August, 5 years ago, they dumped him. Like so much garbage along the roadside. Mr. Whiteside. Done. He was too conservative for a radio station owned by the NY Times after all. He said things, spoke his mind, and wasn't afraid to do so. Truth cuts deep.

So, I've found out.

Beyond those negativities, this Wednesday is beyond beautiful. So clear, the sky so deep blue, the trees so green against their indigo backdrop, the air so cool and dry, which makes for a bright, shiny day indeed! Overnight it was so quiet outside, especially when the katydids and the crickets cease their night conversations, I swear, you could hear a pin drop.

When cars drive up and down the road, the only way you know that it happens, is when you see the dust in the air; kicked up by tires long gone. Ferns are still long and green, and there is one out next to the shed, which waves to me all day long. It really does wave, the little, top-heavy precipiece of it, waves like a hand, when the entire fern sways to and fro. Piper and I head out to the mailbox every afternoon and usually meet no one. No car, no person, no bear. Oh, he's been in these parts, lately, rubbing his big, black back on the telephone pole near our house, and skulking up the driveway, only to look back at my barking puppy with a face full of boredom.

Speed limit 15 mph. So it says, at the entrance to my road. Little more than a gravel driveway, really. Surrounded by forsythia / honeysuckle / brambles / trees right down to the end.

This has been my summer of solitude. Alone during the week, without a car, feeling each day like a little more of my luck has run out. But, I have to turn those negative thoughts around! They do me no good, and I've never been the sort to be so down and out. But, God almighty, this has been the worst year of my life! And it ain't over yet.

9/3/08
A bright and beautiful Wedndesday, warm! I'll take these end of summer idylls; they will go fast and leave cold and dark in their wake. Even now, the sun slanting at angles in the sky, leaves us too soon; by 8:00 it is dark. Then the soft lamps lit all around the house will have to do. Lit, so we don't have to turn around and wonder who is there. No one.

For those who don't know, for those who can remember, there were amusement parks years and years ago, so many of which no longer exist. Olympic Park in Irvington NJ was one I remember well. Rides such as Tilt-a-Whirl, the Bug, Roller Coaster, a funhouse ride, and a funhouse walk-through. The Scrambler, the Whip, and the Glass House. A house of mirrors. I never ventured in for fear, in my youth, of never venturing out. Silly, I know, yet, not so irrational. But, I remember all the rest who were wandering within; looking for the open side, some journeys just begun, some journeys judging by where they were standing looked to be almost finished, or still with much wandering to do.

So much like life. We are here, and tomorrow we will have stepped into another mirrored space. Mirrors representing memory. In fact, where we are today, is because we stepped into this particular space from another, yesterday. Each cubicle looking the same, yet taking us on our journey; either throwing us forward or making us go back and repeat something we've already done. As we go, we look for the exit, for the open door, for the way out. Stuck in the chaos of life, the way out often is gone, or we don't recognize it; it looks to us just like another glass panel. We think that's the way, yet walk into a "wall" and can go no further. So, we turn and search in another place. Moving ever so slowly, hoping we are going in the right direction! Feeling panicky as our journey takes us away from what we perceive to be the end, the completion we had in
mind, and wanting with staunch determinism to find our way out!

As we pass through each little glass space, it's like passing through the places in our lives. First here, then there, then somewhere else. Most of us have traveled a long way from whence we began. Most of us have multiple spaces which we can look back on, some even, staring us right in the face; yet, we pass beyond - step further away because that is the way to go.

Or so we think. I don't know if it's safer to stay put or to move. Some days will do that to you. But, at least, in my house of mirrors, I can always look in the glass and see what has been, and see who I was, and see who I am today. And know, without a regret in the world, that here, in the midst of light and reflection, that it is the right place to be.

Even as the ferns are dying.

Watch for some new projects I will post in the days to come. The days which melt into a dusky

shadow by 7 o'clock or so; where twilight enters and beckons us to light our lamps and go

within. It's the best place to be.