A screech owl's cry permeated the early evening two days ago. It was otherworldly; the cry of a predator and a living being. Yesterday during my early morning walk, I saw a fawn prancing in a field, two snakes by the side of the road and a red-tailed fox on a grassy mound. I'm wondering what meaning there is in all of this. So much of my life is spent going here, doing this. All around me, animals hunt, run, propagate.
The choices that comprise a life are complicated. We choose professions or they choose us. We choose partners or they choose us. There's a certain amount of unconsciousness that follows as we continue with our choices as if they never again need to be reflected upon or changed. Two people I know recently left long marriages for the promise of something else. A close friend is traveling to try to find his lost daughter--now a young woman he doesn't know. Hope is like breathing.
In Ireland, there was time to notice the changing light. I liked the wildness of the weather. The sea has always spoken to me, invited me to inhale deeply. It will take time to understand all these messages--the owl, the fox, the choices. I do believe that writing brings me closer to the truth.
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