I believe there is something else
entirely going on but no single
person can ever know it,
so we fall in love.
It could also be true that what we use
everyday to open cans was something
much nobler, that we'll never recognize.
I believe the woman sleeping beside me
doesn't care about what's going on
outside, and her body is warm
which is a great beginning.
- Matthew Rohrer
Today a personal essay of mine, "Suddenly Solo," was published in AOL's My Daily online journal. You will find a live link to the essay to the left, and also on my home page under *FEATURED RELEASE*.
The photographic art chosen by the editors at AOL to accompany the story is both fitting and lovely. This essay describes a moment of my life and the winter it entwined with the story of an old swan, known to wilderness rangers here simply as "Solo."
The timing of this essay was completely unexpected - months and months from the time it was written and submitted, and honestly the essay was forgotten by me in the river of events that swept my life and probably Solo's as well downstream into new seasons and different geography. The thought I had when this essay resurfaced yesterday, and published today, was how all of life's currents travel in huge unseen eddies. We do not truly know when things will return to us, when people and history reconnect, intersect, bump up again in new elbows of time. All things and all time sweep forward through a great unknown. I find these deep unseen linkages to be comforting, an eternal mystery.
The poem, CREDO, by Matthew Rohrer reminded me today of the ways we simply wake up, love, and plunge our hands into the raw stuff of a given day. There may be something more. And possibly not. I believe there is. But what we do have is love, the "body is warm with trust which is a great beginning."
And that is the message of the story of Solo, who I hope returned once more with spring.