Thursday, June 5, 2014

Morning Song

Early April of 1986, just before I turned 15 I spent a couple of nights out in the fields next to our house in Idaho, in my Dad's Toyota 4-Runner, clutching binoculars and hoping I'd get to see Halley's Comet.  I thought it was providence that the comet was coming so close to when I was born.  With Mark Twain dying on my Birthday, the final bookend to his story that began with the comet coming on the day of his birth meant it was going to happen. This was a part of my story.

I never saw the comet.  I looked and looked.  I waited and waited.  I had the coordinates, I had the equipment.  It just never happened.  I took this as a serious defeat.  It still saddens me to think of this young girl staring into the heavens for hours on end, alone, knowing that she will never live to see her wish.

I may never see Halley's Comet, even if I live to 2061 and at 90 years of age my eyes are working well enough to see this marvel, what I know NOW is I don't want to miss all the wonders happening right next to me.  I don't need binoculars for that.

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The Bun

The Bun
If you don't like rabbits, you can suck it, shove it and then go soak your head.