June 22nd, 2019
“I read the news today, oh boy…” – The Beatles
I got up at 4:30. I wake up predawn every day. I don’t know why. It have something to do with the fact that I worked third shift for over twenty years. I suspect that my sleep cycle is permanently trashed.
After I get up, I am in the habit of switching on the computer. and then reading the headlines on NPR or the BBC. That’s almost always a bad move. The heavy dose of negativity is enough to make me want to crawl back into bed.
However, when I get up, Shocky gets up. Shocky is a border collie/lab mix. Karin and I are caring for the dog while somebody we love is incarcerated. Shocky drinks some water out of her bowl, and then she expects me to take her for a walk. We do that.
Shocky and I usually go for about two miles. We wander west on Oakwood Road to the railroad tracks, and then we turn around. At this hour there is a minimal amount of traffic on the street. We go past farm fields, small wooded areas, wetlands, and expensive subdivisions. Objects are indistinct in the twilight when we begin our walk. Sometimes a mist rises that obscures the houses in the distance. Animals cross our path. We see deer, or an occasional raccoon. The sandhill cranes stand silent and still in the empty fields.
This morning the waning moon was still high up in the sky, looking cold and white. We walked toward the east on our way back to our house. The sun was still below the horizon, but its light painted the bands of alto stratus clouds. They were initially a bright pink that slowly changed to orange and gold. The colors of the sky were reflected in a pool of standing water. It was like a multicolored mirror.
Timing is everything. Shocky and I were nearly home when the sun peaked over the edge of the woods. It was just bright enough to light up the highest of the tree branches. The sunlight sparkled in the leaves that moved restlessly in the wind.
Shocky and I stopped for a moment.
I looked at the sun and said, “Thank you.”
Frank is Emptiness 