(Saturday September 4th 2010, Bridgton Maine)
Far to the east tropical storm Earl churns the sea, its ferocity calmed by cooler waters. What could have been did not come to pass. What could have been is in the past. I sit on this rickety wooden chair with its right rear leg teetering in a hole left by an innocent creature of God’s design. I sit among family and new found friends reminded of the expression that strangers are simply friends we have not met yet and reminded that life is remarkable.
What I see is my youngest nephew marrying atop a creation called Ministers Hill. What I experience is a reckoning with beauty and irony. A storm stirs the sea but over our heads are fast rushing dreamy clouds that fill the storm’s void as they fill my mind with wonder. I say to those that vaunt a cloudless sky, where’s the imagination in one of those. Look to all the billowy shapes that fill your sky, take time to consider each of them, to reach for them, you may just touch a few. I see a castle, or maybe it is a farm house. I see a long lanky man, he could be a farmer but he definitely has a scruffy face. I see a young woman, beautiful in her white wisps of wedding adornment. And quietly circling the pair is a precious ball of love. They have already touched me.
Every life has clouds, some are dark and bring thunder and lightning, some merely a long lasting drizzle, maybe someone’s sky is cloudless--but what fun is that. It is the clouds that cross our skies, it is the people that grace our lives that remind me to appreciate all the billowy clouds.