Sabbath at The Acres.
It began as most days begin now. Lying on my bed in the dark, silent, meditating. Then, I post the thoughts given me on facebook. Then, from the thoughtful to the mundane--Homesteader reminding me that the most important creature in the house is not the human. Don't you hate it when an animal's natural self-centeredness conflicts with your human "it's all about me" self-centeredness?
I had a marvelous visit with a former student this morning, Reed Klass. I hate to use the term "former student." They are truthfully just students who no longer come to class. He works in DC now, and has, for some reason wanted to stop by and take pictures of The Acres and the old man who hides out there. So today we made it happen; well, Reed made it happen. 
He took some photographs with this ancient camera that requires the eye of the photographer even more than the mechanics of the camera. Fascinating! Photos were taken inside the cave and out in the meadow. We reminisced about school, what his family was up to, change, the beauty of the Creation. I gave him a couple Wendell Berry books to his delight, I think. Reed was always a critical thinker and writer, committed to excellence in all things.. I have three "snapshots" of him that stand out in my memories: his sitting in the front left corner of AP English, mind obviously at work, reflecting; his singing and dancing "If I Was a Rich Man" at senior night--I believe--for the drama department, and my offering to leave him the tie I was wearing at his class's graduation. I blew the chance today, eh? "I'll get it to you some way my young friend." Do not panic--the pursuit of art and beauty and excellence is alive and well in the next generation.
He took some photographs with this ancient camera that requires the eye of the photographer even more than the mechanics of the camera. Fascinating! Photos were taken inside the cave and out in the meadow. We reminisced about school, what his family was up to, change, the beauty of the Creation. I gave him a couple Wendell Berry books to his delight, I think. Reed was always a critical thinker and writer, committed to excellence in all things.. I have three "snapshots" of him that stand out in my memories: his sitting in the front left corner of AP English, mind obviously at work, reflecting; his singing and dancing "If I Was a Rich Man" at senior night--I believe--for the drama department, and my offering to leave him the tie I was wearing at his class's graduation. I blew the chance today, eh? "I'll get it to you some way my young friend." Do not panic--the pursuit of art and beauty and excellence is alive and well in the next generation.The rest of the day was spent reading, responding to other "former" students on message and texts. That reading part was tough to do. The communications? Friendship, literature, poetry--what you would expect, right? Dishes need to still be done, papers to grade--I'll get right on those, I promise.
The communications? Friendship, literature, poetry--what you would expect, right? Dishes need to still be done, papers to grade--I'll get right on those, I promise.The bright, beautiful sunny mid-morning and early afternoon has turned hazy. The moon was fighting the clouds as I again traversed the driveway in the darkness to take the trash to the end of the driveway. Some have said that snow is coming. I hope it's an all--nighter so I can sit in the doorwindow and watch it soften the dark landscape of The Acres into a deep white serenity. What's sleep when you can watch The Artist slowly brush in the beauty of winter?
God has blessed me with another day--an e.e. cummings splendiferous day. I thank Him once again for "the many forms of love He bears." Oh, you say, it was wondrous for everyone. What's the big deal? The big deal? He wrapped up this wondrous day for me, gave me the eyes to see it, the heart to love it, and His presence was the wrapping paper. Big deal.
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