That’s Tango, posing nicely by a pretty autumnal sugar maple in nearby West Macon Track. This was one week ago and I have no doubt the leaves have all disappeared. It’s happening a lot these days. A cold front moved through on Thursday night with high winds and about .5 inches of rain. But the cold air got hung up on the west side of the mountains and this delightful, almost hallucinogenic, warm air slipped in between the cold air and the rain making Friday a spectacular day. Indian Summer… Leaves were everywhere, on the ground, in great quantities. Tree limbs were black and naked, reaching towards a cobalt blue sky. The scents were earthy and the air was soft.
These are days we’ll remember (apologies to Natalie Merchant). Not just for the sunshine and falling leaves but for the extraordinary miracles of life and death that once again grace our life. On the hilltop above my home is the dying form of my friend Gail…life partner of a life-long friend, Boni. Just three weeks ago, after a summer of decline, Gail was diagnosed with terminal cancer. A return engagement of lung cancer that tried to take her life eight years ago. Conquered then, the demon is back and this time it will succeed.
But success is not necessarily triumph. It is Gail’s spirit that is triumphant. Death will take her…but it will take us all. It is not the taking but rather HOW we are taken. Gail’s smiles, her peace, her continuing sense of humor, her love for Boni and her many friends, … her grace. This is the triumph. ❧