Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Open Window

I slept with the window open last night as it was warm and could smell the scents of the night and now the early morning as the sun endeavors to bring in the new day. Ah, the sounds of the birds as they twitter. There are distant cawing of crows, not close as they were yesterday.

There were suspicious ash on the window still last night as I opened the blinds and sash. I have no idea where they came from. I am new to this area. Is the black particles normal for this area? It wasn't for Redding. Are the smokers who gather on the balcony not far from my window responsible for their presence? I was reminded of the ash of ash Wednesday of Christian churches for I have been thinking of past memories of late. I was thinking of my friend who died many years ago, killed by her new husband while holding their baby. We used to go to her Roman Catholic Church and sing in the choir. She had asked the priest if she should stay with her husband who beat her and he had said yes. It was her duty to reform him, to lead him to God. I was thinking of her as I looked on the ash on the window. Two years after her death he killed his new wife in a traffic accident this time with the baby. My friend's family would spend the rest of their days in deep morning for all of them and in deep hatred of their son-in-law and of the law that gave no justice.

I was reminded of the ash that fell from the death camps on the surrounding towns in Germany in the 20th Century filled with people who did not know what was happening in those places of death. There are no death camps here. Portland is a city of trees and roses, of people who read books and of people who don't. Still, when the streams of people enter the highways they turn on their sadness and pour out their frustrations on each other here as they do everywhere else. I love to drive and see the wonderful trees looming out from the hillsides while some angry drivers jockey for position on the roadways. You don't see many angry riders on trolleys or it doesn't seem as if you do.

At Loaves and Fishes you see some of the seniors with angry bitter looks lining up for food. Some of them look at you as if you are going to take something away from them. There are no death panels in Oregon as they have in Arizona but in all of this beauty something is wrong with those who stand in line. Ashes fall everywhere here but why?

The bushes outside my window lost the wonderful red flowers that appeared one morning but new leaves appeared in their stead. I can see new buds growing and there will be another crop of red flowers very soon. The old petals have yet to drop away from the worn out flowers where new growth have bush through. When it rains, I can see the rain drops glistening on its leaves. It rained last night for I can see from here goblets of water. The crows are now closer. They are cawing louder. I wonder if they know where the ash is coming from, maybe it is from the leftovers of yesterday's day. The sun has just appeared and it is good to see it as it makes few appearances in Portland. If the ash is the bitterness of life, it is good it lies on my window instead on my heart and everyone wakes up feeling better about the goodness of life. I can always get a paper towel and just wipe it clean.

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