The wind blew a jet contrail past the moon last night, one long streak of exhaust on a diagonal with the pale orb, below it at first and then rapidly–and the whole line remaining intact–rising far above. I have never seen a contrail move that quickly or that intact; it felt as if the earth was suddenly spinning faster on its axis, with we the weary pilgrims still merely along for the ride and the contrail some long-lost traveler hurrying home.
When I think of how many left this earth too soon—for reasons of unnecessary hunger or disease or displacement or violence—in the time between that sweeping upturned traveller’s passing and now? I am saddened and yet also deeply heartened, reminded once more to appreciate every remaining moment, no matter how harried or bereft. Life finds a way, every day, until it doesn’t. Travelers all, we spend our days tucked into the crevices of the steadiest footing we can find in the whirlwind, steady as she goes, and then exit the stage to walk with the wily winds. I wish you a joy-filled weekend, time with loved ones, time with you, time. Just time.
