To the Top of Things

It is fall finally. The squirrel is gone from the house, and the droves of blackbirds have flown through Mason Neck, signaling the spawn of cold.

What is the old saying? You simply put one foot in front of the other.

Off to New England tomorrow, climbing trails to the tops of mountains, a journey that smells of pine.

Doug drove his truck and trailer to my home in northern VA, and said, "Hey, let's go. We can develop and hike and listen to whatever happens along the way." And he will visit a surgeon in Bahstin, to have a growth removed from his ear, a remnant of his experience in Vietnam. Agent Orange. It is cancer, but not melanoma. He will survive. It is a time when I will wait for him. Read a book...perhaps Henry Miller or Herman Melville...in a cold waiting room at a VA hospital in Bean Town, where my nurse friend K has an "in", where he will get the best treatment for a bad experience from the top surgeon.

Marg coughs now. Yet she can still climb to the tops of mountains, smiling the entire way. She just wants to be with the pack. Until she can't take another step. She is the sweetest of Labs. And Walt becomes Rin Tin-Tin, galloping through streams.

Leaves change color. So does life. And all move on.

It is the Celtic New Year in a day or so. I like the newness. The Celts believed in life, and that all comes around again.

Something worth believing.

Comments

[Toni]

Hi Mary,

Beautiful story. Best of luck to Doug.

[Genie]

Mary, I love your insights...they always remind me to stop and think about things greater than the right-in-front-of-my-very-faceness that I get caught up in. Thanks...and best wishes to Doug.