Sunday, October 22, 2006


I love pictures of pathways in the woods.
Leafy trails, log bridges,
trees leaning in,
sunshine dappled through the canopy.

More than pictures,
I love BEING on pathways in the woods.
But sometimes a picture tides me over
between rambling hikes.

We had a meeting after church today
to vote on a budget...
a humongous budget,
so much more money than last year.
And at least initially,
less program money
while we pay mortgages
and wait for our land to sell.

The land on the mountain,
where we thought we would build a church.
Who knew back then,
that the building project would not work,
that the church downtown would come up for sale,
that we would be here now,
unintended mortgagees.

Waiting for the next bend in the path.
Waiting to see how we can raise this budget,
waiting for a real estate transaction
to alleviate our debt.

Waiting to see, beyond all that,
what this community will become
as we bumble along
full of energy and talent
full of conflict and faults
full of mystery
and sometimes even awe.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Monday, October 16, 2006

Old Growth Forest

Hiked this past Saturday
at Joyce Kilmer.
Hugged the big trees,
sometimes five or six people around,

grew dizzy looking up,
wondered what it would have been like
to walk the woods of this country
before our logging
led us to believe that trees
are generally smaller.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

And Suddenly, It Was October

Where did the last half of September go?
Sometimes it feels like time slips by
faster and faster.

I visited a 98 year old lady today,
who is quite aware of her age, of her history,
quite aware of the people who have died
and left her behind,
quite aware of her blessings and her faith.

She was quite aware.
Unusual at 98.
In the past I've experienced her
pleasant and talkative
but deaf as a stump.
Today, miracle of miracles,
her hearing aide was working.

Regardless, she always tells me,
"I'm just plugging along...
doing the best I can."

You don't get the full effect without her voice.

Musical little old lady voice, lilting and upbeat.

When she says "doing the best I can"
she traces the scale upwards
until the second half of "can"
(a word I previously didn't realize
had two syllables, one a note lower than the first).

Ca-an. The second syllable goes back down a note.

Call me if you need to hear it.
It's hard to explain in type.