Monday, November 3, 2008

Miracles and friends

Sooner or later we are bound to have some cold and rainy weather but so far how can you not be invigorated by these sunny, mild and leafy Autumn days? Ollie and I had another splendid time on our walk a few hours ago. We both spent a good deal of it gazing up at the trees. Ollie was meditating on the likelihood of cats and squirrels becoming immobilized by the sheer force of his awesome dog brainwaves, tumbling earthward into his widely gaping jaws. Apparently his brainwaves were not quiet up to the job as no small furry entities fell from the trees this morning.

What did fall, of course, were leaves. That's what got me looking towards the limbs above us. I think it's a small miracle every time I happen to witness a leaf falling. Really, if you think about it, that leaf has been budding, growing and waving from that branch for six months. What are the odds that out of the 259,200 minutes that comprise a leaf's life, I would be looking at the very minute it turns loose from it's hold on that little limb and spirals to the ground?

When they fall in great bunches it can be harder to surround a leaf's floating journey with the stillness required to appreciate the significance of the event. But when just one drifts down the miracle is easier to recognize.

I was in the mood for such small affirmations on this Monday morning in particular as it was a sad weekend. Our family bid adieu to some very close friends, Randy, Karla, Connor and Anna Scholfield, who left for Colorado on Saturday. While we know that in these times more than ever it's easy to stay in touch with others over long distances, saying farewell is still hard. The friends you make when your and their children are small, can be as close as family and even closer if you're like us and your family is several states away.

So walking by their empty house was an eye-reddening moment. Ollie sniffed at their fence for his dog friends, Mugs and Baxter, left his usual calling card and we went on into the morning. I soon found diversion in the aforementioned leaf spectacle and Ollie tried to mentally-telepath a noisy squirrel to the ground. We love our morning walk and our old friends.


kancruiser said...

Richard -- you dirty dog! You've got my eyes welling up, too. Randy has been like a brother to me and I cherish his friendship and will miss his boyish face, again. He seems to slip in and out of our lives, but always leaves us feeling better about life in general. I remember telling him one time how proud I was of him and he actually seemed touched by my comment.
What a great family!

Suzanne said...

That was a beautiful post, Richard. We're dealing with some very similar emotions, preparing to say goodbye to friends/neighbors/family as we move to the new house. Bittersweet autumn.