Falling

I am falling like a hard rain
Like a hard rain in the night

I am falling like a distant star
Like a distant star in the night

I am falling like a firefly
Like a firefly in the night

I am falling like a hard rain
Like a hard rain in the night

I woke in night possessed stillness

I woke in night possessed stillness
Heard the hushed voice of a lesser god
Murmuring in the rain overflowed gutters
Somewhere inside that voice another
Sung a nursery rhyme in the lilting
Accents still in my heart
Since a nearly forgotten winter in Osaka
When I would wake at night
And listen to Miho singing
Her aged Grandmother to sleep
Mother and child entwined and tangled
Uninvited guests at the Foxes Wedding

Sent from my iPhone

A Winters Tale

There is a time when the best thing we can do is run through the darkness.

It is an act of faith. It is a statement of trust to run through the night.

We trust our memory of the terrain. We trust our memory of the twists, the turns, the curves, the rise and the fall of the path.

It is a flowing moment of liberation.

Why we run is a winter’s tale.

Sometimes when we run we run toward things.

Sometimes when we run we run away from things.

Sometimes, I would say the best of times, we simply run because we can.

I left the ranch about eight p.m. I had spent the day idly and felt the need to run rising as the evening overtook us. I dressed warmly, in layers, so I could peel them off as I went.

It was a short jog out of the ranch yard to the road and I turned north. It is a mile and a half along a relatively straight road to the mailbox.

I started out slowly, moving at an even pace until my eyes adjusted to the night. The world was cast entirely in shades of silver and gray. Once my eyes had adjusted to the night I could make out the strand of the road, light against dark.

I kept my paces short to keep my feet underneath me, to keep my balance centered, to land surely on each foot.

Aussie ran alongside me, ranging ahead and behind, coursing back and forth across the road.

Somewhere to the east coyotes were howling. I could see occasional fields of stars amid the mostly overcast sky.

It has been a long time since I ran through the South Dakota night. Time folded into itself and those moments joined with these. The run took on that timeless sense that all good runs do. Something surrenders into the purity of the moment.

I reached the mailbox and turned for home. My pace was faster, surer, covering the road I had covered moments before. I picked up the pace, felt my legs starting to burn, felt my lungs drawing in the sharp cold South Dakota winter nights air.

Aussie pulled in close to me on the run home. The pace was fast enough that when he ranged from side to side he got left behind and I could hear the rapid pace of his paws as he would rush up behind me.

I pushed myself hard when the yard lights of the ranch approached, lengthening my stride running with speed through the darkness. The approaching yard lights began to affect my night vision, I could feel it fading.

Some, as I approached the ranch, I was running at speed through the darkness, trusting entirely to my memory of the terrain I had just crossed.

My memory was flawed.

Not badly, but enough.

Just at the turn of the ranch road I hit a rock. I good sized one, slight domed, a sudden solid strike. It did not break my stride but I felt the blow. I slowed down and took the last quarter of mile at an easy pace.

I was limping by the time I reached the ranch. I went inside and stripped down. I took off my shoe and checked my foot. Tender, but nothing broken – just a solid blow in the darkness to the bridge of my foot.

I am sitting here now icing it and feeling that soft throbbing.

Every moment of the run was worth it. Sometimes we run simply because we can. Sometimes we pay a price because we decide to run, because we decide to trust, because we run for the sake of running.

Monday Night and Irish Films

It is a beautiful California night. I got home from work, cooked a light dinner (soup and sandwich), and then went out for a rambling, zig-zag, hour walk, threading in and out of neighborhoods. It was just cool enough to be crisp inside the velvet blackness of the night. The neon lights at the Maple Leaf plaza looks very cool as I walked past the Sushi Boat, the Final Score, Yaz, the Pho place and Ringer Hut. Classic California night.

The day was fairly chaotic at work this morning - I got into the office early, got on the phone, and then basically spent the next five hours glued to the telephone in a series of meetings and impromptu calls that stacked up one after another. By the time I slipped out to lunch it had been a full day. It quieted down in the afternoon and I managed to get quite a bit accomplished. With the end of the project that almost broke me, it feels nice to be slipping back into the normal rhythms. I still have a lot of work, I am constantly busy, but it is an achievable busy - I go home at the end of the day with the sense of having actual done something.

After my walk, as I settled in for the evening, I watched a pretty amusing movie that I had not seen before - “The Last of the High Kings” with Jared Leto in an Irish coming of age story. Sweet, poignant and funny, I would recommend it if you have not seen it. I went through a phase a few years back where I was hooked on either Irish movies or movies with an Irish theme. Let me see if I can list my top ten favorite Irish movies...

Positions One, Two and Three are a solid lock with the Barrytown Trilogy.

(1) The Commitments
(2) The Van
(3) The Snapper

Then, hats off to just a solid performance by Gabriel Byrne in:

(4) Into the West
Then, let me stack a couple others up:

(5) The Wind In The Barley
(6) Some Mothers Son
(7) The Playboys
(8) Michael Collins
(9) Millions
(10) The Last of the High Kings

And, three more classics:

(11) The Fighting Prince of Donegal
(12) Darby O'Gill and the Little People
(13) The Quiet Man


There are many, many others that are excellent. The Irish Film Board turns out some excellent work, some truly great independent (non-Hollywood) films.

I spoke with my mother on the telephone Sunday and she is doing much better. She is still feeling the after effects of the acute pancreatitis, but is mentally alert and very much herself. I will be heading back to South Dakota on the 20th for ten days of Thanksgiving vacation (returning to California on the 30th), so I am looking forward to the visit. One of the things I plan on doing while there is to sit down and have a heart to heart with my parents on the issues and challenges of aging - we have had several of those conversations over the years, but I think another one would be a good idea. I think it is important that the wishes of the individuals be expressed and understood while they are hale and hearty.

So, this week is going to fly by at work, as will the next, since I have seven working days left before I take off on vacation and it usually takes two or three days at least to get everything coordinated. Most likely I will take my personal laptop with my on vacation (either the Mac or the PC - yes, I have two laptops - three if I count my work laptop). Though the ranch is basically “off the grid” - dial up only, no AT&T cell phone coverage, I often take the laptop so I can process photos, write, and play games. When I am there is something pops up work related that I have to deal with, I usually drive into Winner, SD and get a hotel room, specifically for the internet connection. LOL - someday they will have broadband at the ranch - that day just isn’t there yet.

Tonight, for the rest of the night, after having a great telephone call with a dear friend, my plan is to read and relax and hopefully fall into a deep and restful sleep. I did dream last night but, given the chaos of the morning, the substance of those dreams has fallen away. Perhaps I will remember tonight’s dreams better.