Monday

Invisible


By mapping celestial progress Taoist astronomers two thousand years in the distant past created the yin yang symbol. Today I watched two Koi create this pattern as they swam in and out of a tight circle with each other in the pond's placid water.

A friend writes on the pleasure of being invisible.  The Tao includes this habit of being as progress also.  To listen and watch from the edge of things.  The edge of things...often one of the best seats in the house, so to speak.  And from this seat to witness, what? Fish, fox, children, tree, the grocery store, the bed, the bank, a myriad possibility of clouds, potatoes:  panorama of the day.

Bearing witness.  The writer Didion was important to me early on; the way she brought a sense of the Greek chorus to her witnessing characters.  The way she somehow restored a long missing piece of tragedy to twentieth century life.  In the novels, anyway.  I don't think it had ever been missing in our lives.  However noble, however novel, or not.  Tragedy, as common and as spectacular as fall.

And here in Bethel?  The turkeys:  here then suddenly gone.  The deer.   The cloud bank roving above the extravagance of falling yellow leaves.  Us.