What would you do if you were told you probably had about a month to live? Of course, no one ever knows, really. But sometimes there are educated guesses.
I think I'd notice my breath still flowing--, in, out, in, out-- the tide underpinning all else. And then I hope I'd go about the magnificent, ordinary routines that support me, things I've known and loved to do for years. I believe I will always notice the enormous and miniscule natural details of this world, and find it all beautiful. Even the deer carcass in the field on which the eagles feed, even that ripped flesh, skin and sturdy, exposed bone seems to me harshly beautiful, to say nothing of your beloved face, and also mine in the mirror.
From inside, the sky today looks almost uniformly gray, but walking in the outdoors the significant details and variations become noticeable, and the uniformity is only an at-a-glance generalization.
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