Sparks

The barren, crooked branches of the great old oaks reach to the starry sky. Tonight is crisp, scented with wood fires – including the stove which warms the cottage behind us. We’re sitting on the porch enjoying our small vices – some Cabernet from Molly, and smokes: one of Deb’s three allotted cigarettes a day, a petite Cuban cigar for me - and she warns it will get very cold tonight.

Inside I stoke the fire one more time, embers and sparks glow in the darkened room and as I shut the iron door, the fire hisses and snaps. Deb is right. Already, at 10:30pm, the chill is creeping through the house, even though we drew the heavy curtains and bundled towels under the doorjambs. I can only imagine those wee, pre-dawn hours will be frigid! Tomorrow we need to find more firewood, or even kerosene.

Along with the thrill and adventure of road trips, there is melancholy: in the changing of places, situations; the passing of time … and this one especially so.  I stopped in Paso to visit Sandy: as delightful as that was, Tina’s bright spark was so obviously missing. Now I’m in Lake County with Deb, who’s entering a new battle with cancer. She is her same amazing, love-filled self – but after just two treatments, feeling the effects of the chemo: slightly befuddled, sapped of energy. Both of these women remind me of my most favorite prose from Eduardo Galeano, which I’ll post below. And I’ll try to write more tomorrow – but I too am somewhat weary tonight. ~ B

From 'The Book of Embraces' by Eduardo Galeano ...

A man from the town of Negua, on the coast of Columbia, could climb into the sky.

On his return, he described his trip. He told how he had contemplated human life from on high. He said we are a sea of tiny flames.

"The world," he revealed, "is a heap of people, a sea of tiny flames."

Each person shines with his or her own light. No two flames are alike. There are big flames and little flames, flames of every color. Some people's flames are so still they don't even flicker in the wind, while others have wild flames that fill the air with sparks. Some foolish flames neither burn nor shed light, but others blaze with life so fiercely that you can't look at them without blinking and if you approach, you shine in fire.

PHOTOS: Deb & I on the porch of the cottage; Sandy and new Sloopy