Sunday night, October 14, 2012.
Now the night is pitch dark — no moon to light the way. I walk with a headlight around my neck; the dogs frolic in the dark. It’s October. Somewhere it’s snowing, but here we dance outdoors in summer clothes, buoyed by a warm wind. I am aware of these windows of time, too few and far between, where I shed all the roles I play and wander as a free spirit.
My mind flits to the happenings of the day. Late afternoon, before sunset, I rode my bike down rural Rice Road to see the art and home-in-progress of Eilam Byle and his wife Robin Goldstein Byle. Magical human beings who know how to turn a tear- down into a castle. His energy feels Zen-hobbit-woodsman -like, relaxed, laid back. He described Robin as “having her foot on the pedal.” I can see that! Sounds like a match made in heaven.
I left early enough to watch the sunset, with time to visit my parents before darkness fell. Tomorrow, October 15th, is my dad’s 89th birthday. The doctor declared his health is improving. He says he sleeps most of the time and has no pain.
Our days fly by like a fleeting dream. The characters I encounter come and go. My parents have been here forever — I know in my head that someday, when I knock on the door, their mortal bodies will be no more. But for now their presence helps anchor me to the earth.
What a beautiful, perfect day!
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