Playing for Time

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Remember blog posts? Somebody who sounds a whole lot like me has stopped by here a handful of times since Christmas, left a few thoughts on the page and disappeared again, so I’ve wondered if it’s even still a thing. I finally caught up with her today and she and I absolutely agree that inspiration is hard to come by lately… it hides in the details, staying elusive just to mess with us, as life would have it… but the story is always ours to write.

Speaking of life, it goes on. Things occur every day that we’re only vaguely aware of, things that slowly but inexorably make change happen, until one day we’re shocked into a renewed awareness of our world, both personal and global. “Wait, when did they: build that, institute that, decide that, CHANGE that??” We looked away and things happened because they weren’t our job, man, and we aren’t in charge of the world, which I hope doesn’t distress any of us too much.

Winter has changed to spring here in glorious ways. That bad boy of the tree world, the Callery or Bradford pear, was EVERYWHERE with its white blossoms, nearly matched by the sweet Eastern redbuds. And now they’re all covered with brilliant green leaves. The rains have been faithful, turning the East Lawrence forest into a big ol’ showoff in its finery, and it glows when the sun’s ray find it. Nice change.

Day by day, change of every kind has its way with us, repeatedly delivering one of life’s hardest messages: Move it or lose it, change or die. Anyone who thinks life is fair hasn’t lived it yet.

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I’ve started living life on the ASAP plan and liking it. Helps keep the angst down to a whisper some days…

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Baby sister was here and the three of us enjoyed a lovely Ishtar lunch, graced by the tulips Kim brought home from Farmers Market, so there’s been much good change, good life, good love… all of it still in vogue and waiting for the stories to be told.

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HAPPY SPRING