Winter solstice is always a good time for reflection. Fall has bottomed out, we've turned the corner, and although winter lies ahead, there's the light of spring at the end of the tunnel. The older I get, the faster the seasons seem to fly, and while I hope to live to a hundred and ten, there's this sense of panic that any one of these next few seasons could be the last winter, the last spring. I'm not morbid, really. But things change, the world changes, people enter your life and leave it, you enter theirs and go away. There's no static place - the only thing constant is change. I'm tired of feeling like the rock in the river, gradually being worn away by the force of the stream. I'd rather be the river, raging one minute, meandering peacefully the next. I want to be the force of change, not the result of that change. I was called to do great things - if only I knew what those great things were.
Like a bad penny.... We used to scuba dive as our hobby, a hobby which eventually led to the procurement/construction of a small dive trailer to haul four sets of gear and four cylinders. It was a simple but elegant design - a box on a single axle frame, with the beginnings of a mural painted on both sides, and dive flags at either end. The kids had helped paint it, with Stephen taking special pains with the sharks. When we moved to Nashville, we sold it. We didn't dive as often, and we had no place to store it. Nearly ten years have passed since that October in '99 when we came up here, and I hadn't thought much about the trailer. I thought I had seen it the last time we went to Greenfield, but I wasn't sure. Then Saturday my mother-in-law called to say the neighbor across the street had our trailer for sale. The neighbor was asking a certain price, and we offered a little less. She called back later to say it was ours for the picking up. Sunday we made the trip to fet...
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