Uncloistered

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  “She gazed ahead through a long reach of future days strung together like pearls in a rosary, every one like the others, and all smooth and flawless and innocent, and her heart went up in thankfulness. Outside was the fervid summer afternoon; the air was filled with the sounds of the busy harvest of men and birds and bees; there were halloos, metallic clatterings, sweet calls, and long hummings. Louisa sat, prayerfully numbering her days, like an uncloistered nun.” A New England Nun By Mary E. Wilkins Freeman (1852–1930)

Up there

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A while back I was walking through the park, along the black metal fence that surrounds the lake. As I made the gradual curve, taking me back toward the cascades, I could not help but notice the string tied to the top of the handrail. The string went up, up, up into the sky. I followed the string with my eye to see the kite was on the other end.

Up, up, up, went the string, until it disappeared into the blue sky. I saw no kite.

It was almost as if someone tethered the sky to the handrail.

A cloud floated by. I stared into the sky.

I felt the string. Yup, definitely something there alright, I could feel the tug.

What do you think was up there?

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