Did the clock that runs the universe slip a tooth on its main gear? Seems likely. So much happening that I can’t keep track. Whenever time gets cluttered like that, I try to sort it out by the people in my life instead of by the clock and the calendar.
Too bad I didn’t take
more photos to help bring back the moments. That said, there are a few here
like the ones from the 4 Corners of the Universe (a.k.a. Carousel Corners) that
I shared with lifelong friend Bruce Norvell who breezed through Minnesota in
mid-June on his way home to Heidi-ho (Idaho). What are the 4 Corners of the
Universe, you ask? Park your derričre between ours in the dust of a particular
cross-trails in one of my haunts and you’ll see what God paints in his spare time.
Now look out at the
four beautiful fields, each botanically and culturally different right down to
the technicolor dragonflies and micro-winged thingies that patrol the borders
of the cross-trails. If you lift your eyes to the limits of vision, the fields seem
to vaporize into true blue skies where clouds traffic like clipper ships in
busy shipping lanes. There is no sound track. The breeze sets the tempo –
languid and cat-paw silent. Thus, you know that time has stopped so that the
warehouse of your thoughts and emotions can be sorted without haste.
It will all be filed under “P” for Perspective. That’s what made my eyes a bit misty, as I mentioned on Facebook a couple weeks ago. Because residing there in the dust with my lifelong friend was like a subtle signpost on a lengthier journey. Bruce has walked the Americas, been a caretaker on an island, and…ah, no use trying to capture the tenth of it. But we were super jocks together in our youth and just never stopped living the physical life, which eventually becomes the spiritual and emotional one. The separate twists in our sagas notwithstanding, we’ve met up a few times in the last decade from “Heidi-ho” (Idaho) at Bruce’s small ranch south of Sun Valley to my enchanted realm in Minnesota, and that’s what made sitting there in the dust seem like a pause on our independent journeys.
Each detail became profound. There was the woman who hiked by whom I spoke a little Russian to, astonishing Bruce and underscoring how little we knew of our unconnected and complex lives. This despite having such continuity over the decades in ways that would be inscrutable to anyone else. And when we gained our feet to continue the hike, it wasn’t as the willowy athletes we had once been with visions of Olympic gold and ever-lasting world records. It was as mere mortals, stiffening with age, understanding that life is merely a visit to a small planet of oceans and fields in the vastness of cosmic Being.
And what about you, my friends? Have you escaped the humdrum of small living? Rites and routines are all proper and good, but they merely set the table for discovering truths and sharing perspectives. “The unexamined life is not worth living,” Socrates is credited with saying. I’ll add that if your inner revelations are fulfilling, communicating them is magic! So how does your garden grow?
Here’s an example of an actual garden plot that yielded some thoughts I posted on Facebook:
Did I really see that yesterday…a garden where nothing was growing? June on the highway of life? How is that possible? Nothing sadder than fallow soil worn smooth. You don’t have to be around to see the harvests or the bloom; but you really need to sow something that has all of your soul in its seeds and is nurtured full-strength by your heart. That’s how you plant your eternity, your immortality. Never out of season to grow that garden, call down the rain, invite the sun in for the afternoon, and kiss a butterfly at dusk...
For a final segue, here’s a butterfly kiss at dusk (#1) to lead off this month’s photos. And the rest: #2 like a mountain rearing up above a Minnesota farmhouse, this bed of clouds captured me one evening; #3-4 my friend Sandi introduced me to Kip’s Irish Pub (…not to mention a Hell’s Angels convention in the parking lot); #5 the Gothic mood of a magic sunset; #6 wish I could have bottled the half hour spent chasing this sky; #7 Bruce Norvell his very own self at my place pursuing a self-taught legal career that already has him up to the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals in the People’s Republic of San Francisco; #8 sunset never looked so hot (…yeah, either I caught a telephone wire in the photo or captured the first shot of an antimatter particle shooting through our star); #9-10 that’s famous Seamus, my grandlad, discovering surf on his seventh birthday; #11 moi and brilliant Annaliese of Norby Nation; #12 me with prez of Norby Nation, my soul bro Bruce Norby (you’re not seeing a typo, I have two separate friends named Bruce Nor___); #13-14 will stir connections with people who know this former Navy Frogman (Seal). Legendary Harry Hauck – back row w/goggles hanging around his neck – will be 89 this year but he still keeps King Neptune company regularly as you can see in the next photo of Harry with a lion fish. You wouldn’t expect less from this tough-as-nails adventurer with whom I was privileged to share a large chunk of my life, including a month with no money off a submarine pier in the Virgin Isles. “The Hawk” was always a force of nature and a colorful companion.
Gonna be a wild summer spent mostly – I hope – in my beloved home state, though I will head to Michigan at some point to make a few memories with special people. Live large and find the magic!
