haven't much Time to gladden

Sadness this evening, sadness of death. Comes to all of us, and increasingly if we are makarioi/makarios blessed happy enough to live long years into Life and all that Time brings. Notifications of two deaths this evening, contemplating it and've just sent notes to the loved ones. One, he and his family go back to Spring 1984, my first meeting and visit with the vestry at Trinity, Apalachicola, and really hit it off with this man. Well, all of them. George W, CT, Ina, Lee, Mary Virginia, George C, Buddy, Jack. But "my friends, life is short, and ... "

It gets personal, so I'm watching my osprey nests in Colorado. Three eggs, new Dad stands tall and shows that typical male white chest, Mom has the necklace of brown speckle, he brings a fish for Mom,

lots of wildlife in the water below the nest, today the staff managing the camera swiveled it around so we could see buildings across the way, looked like a lumber yard or construction supply.

but my favorite is looking beyond Longmont to the mountain range.

And the three eggs, of course. As I've said, it's three years since we had a fledging and migrating brood of Osprey chicks.

The other nest, at Grand Lake, was a big success last year, but I keep looking and it appears to me that they don't even have any eggs yet.

Anyway, watching an osprey nest over about maybe eight or ten years, from The Old Place before moving to 7H, some sort of attachment develops, and it's an observation of Life Itself, evolution, the cycle, good news and bad, joy and sadness, anticipation early Spring, watching all in the family from spring, summer, into fall, the melancholy when it's all over in the Fall and everyone has flown, Dad osprey last to leave, and the little home is vacant and empty and I check in now and then to see the offseason visitors. And wonder who, which, both, one or neither will show back up next Spring. And how my own life will have changed by then. Because it happens.

Spent my Thursday reading the Lectionary propers for this coming Sunday, chasing down tidbits.

What's that gospel reference in the Collect about the breaking of the bread?

Paul never tells of this adventure on the road to Damascus, it's Luke's story written thirty years after Paul's death. Does that rattle our confidence in the evangelist?

The Risen Lord cooking breakfast on the beach for a few old friends. Why didn't they recognize him? Who's this disciple Jesus loved, why does he keep being mentioned?

What's this resurrection business all about anyway? Why is it so significant in our imaginings? What kind of resurrection, physical, spiritual? When? And why, WHY?

Past bedtime, I think I'll post this tonight instead of waiting and updating it Friday morning.

Life IS short, you know.