Eighty-one + five days, still coming upon birthday greetings that slipped by me last week. Nevertheless, thank you. Thoughtful lovingkindnesses toward me, touched and grateful. As my HNES middle school students of a decade ago know, Lovingkindness is the heart of ἀγάπη, Greek, a feminine noun for love, benevolence, good will, esteem. Not maudlin, here I am an age many don’t reach, fortunate; some would say blest and so do I but quietly and humbly as I mind the gap between my life and the existence of most of God’s people. In due course Comes the Revolution, but which for the revolutionaries means not equality for all but plain and dark that we trade places, tormentor and tormented swap roles.
Pelicans flying by now, low atop the surface of the Bay, some crash-landing at my feet seven floors down. Sky changing wondrously moment by moment, as it does daily. With Edmund, Lucy and Eustace, I live at the brink of a work of art, at its rail looking on. Clap of close thunder may draw me in ...
Is that a Narnian ship?