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Sunday, February 19, 2012

2/19/12 STARS AND REFLECTONS

START OF THE "BOOK" AT ASHLAND MARINA

CHRISTMAS TREES AND ILLUMINARIES  MARK THE WAY

SIXTEEN PORTA-POTIES SAY IT ALL

ICY MORNING  REFLECTIONS
Sunday, 8:30 AM.  23 degrees, wind WSW, calm.  The sky is mostly blue and the barometer is trending up.
        last night was clear, cold, and star-studded.  I could see my breath in the light of the lone street lamp on the corner, and mark the progression of Orion across the inky void of the night sky.
         It was certainly a glorious evening for the participants in the four mile Book Across the Bay trek a from Ashland to Washburn.  Whether one can have more than fleeting thoughts about the starry, starry night and the meaning of human existence in the company of thousands of other skiers and snowshoers struggling across the candle- lit ice of Chequamagon Bay, I don’t know. At this point  I am content with the company of my dog, who is skipping and darting along at the end of his leash, breathing in the intriguing smells of the night with great snorts.
        The day has been filled with excerpts of the funeral of Whitney Houston on the TV.  It is always a tragedy when someone who has so much throws it all away, but it seems an even higher tragedy when the talent is so great, and so seldom awarded to any individual.  Then the waste seems truly an affront to God, who expects us, we assume, to use the talents so generously given us to some greater good.
        It is easy to be critical of the great and gifted who have fallen, but we need look no further than the foibles and wasted opportunities of our own little lives to be humbled into a degree of understanding. 
        And the older I get, the more I realize the human failings, and yes the mortality, of myself and others.  And I must ask myself whether I have tried to understand and help and love the alcoholics and  addicts among my own extended family and my own friends, who though not as greatly talented as Whitney Huston are, or were, just as human, and just as lost. 
        At the final curtain, when all the acts have been performed, we find we are all part of the same play…whether star, ingĂ©nue, or supporting cast…and each of us will have to reflect upon our lives, and perhaps will be asked by a higher power,  how well we played our roles.

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