An English In Kentucky


















Thursday June 21st 2012    Tim Candler

      There always is the inclination to slump into self congratulatory impulse following an event deemed a success by those who designed it.  The sad fact is that yet again no answer to the great question was revealed by yesterday's solemn moments, except maybe during the consumption of ice cream with artisan Raspberry sauce that tiptoed, so beautiful it was.  Indeed, no new insight, other than those already pasted upon the imagination that exists in me by others who's motives I no longer trust.  And so I continue to start from the idea that today is actually the first day of winter.

    And for those who cannot manage the fortitude necessary to see it that way, then at least today is that part of the line that takes a being all the way to December Twenty First, when hope has its chance to spring again. And here it might be necessary to live in the outside, amongst the Ticks and things that creep, as well as the new growth and the dance of bird song on a warm breeze that smells of flower bloom, rather than inside a temple that might be called "Ingenuity."

      The question is,  "Was yesterday a moment for celebration or tears."  And here I have to put aside the Christian interpretation that has been well ingrained in me by the teams of smiley faces, and fish for some reason. I will note though, that central to the Christian lexicon is the word 'Joy.'  After all, yesterday or today or tomorrow is or was John the Baptist's birthday. The story is known and its ending always happy, the message "have you heard the news?" The answer "you are saved."

     But if I look into myself, which is as close to The Ancients as I can come, I see yesterday as an all embracing sadness. One of those things our being had to grapple with and then interpret, as we moved further into the northern places where winter called as danger does, without warmth or chance of food.  And no doubt in me it was winter that defined Eden as the past which put the future somewhere else. A failure of imagination in my view.


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