A Hanging Bronze Moon

I've just returned from Spokane. With the fog hanging like a gauzed drapery over the landscape below, the flight was diverted to Portland. We later returned and I have now gotten back in to the city. Today was a long and powerful day, a circle formed with what is left of the Girvin clan. Arriving early this morning, a icy fog hung over the white landscape. At first, I thought it was hillocks, covered with snow, but it was instead the churning of the miniature cosmic sea of mist, crystallized for the time being, silent and unmoving.

And now, returning, the moon hangs over the east, a split moon beautiful in its potent expression of the physical, yet not psychic rift that has occured for our family. Today, seeking the light above the fog, we drove together to our farm, higher above the city. And there, in the brilliant light, the snowbound scene, we trudged up the hillsides of the place each of us grew up in. Trees planted by Matt, brought as seedlings from afar, shimmered in frost, the snow dry and powdered. And the beauty of the scene was breathtaking, the sunlight, filtered by the falling crystals, into shining lightways of luminescence. Matt was there, we called out to him, called him home. As a group, the five of us, we took a toboggan run down the sloping ravine, the snow billowing about, and formed a circle of acknowledgment of his absence.

Walking alone, I spoke aloud: Matt, give me a sign that you are here. And he did. For walking back, there was a curious repeat to my steps through the snow. It was as if he was walking behind me...step by step. With each step, there was another impression, mysterious yet real... So I take it that he was there, in his sacred space, the snow adorned trees, the trackings of animals, the glinting of the sun on the sensual curves of the snowbound fields. The quiet...

And returning tonight, the moon hangs half there, half hidden. This too, is a symbolic gesture of the day. A silent conclusion...

With this, I will make some notes on some projects and come in after some rest. And reflection of the bounty of the "learning" that I, and the members of my family, experienced today.

Thanks for your support...

Good morning to all.
Tim Girvin