Turn, Turn to the Wind and the Rain

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Word came to me yesterday about the death of someone I was friends with long ago. He and I were never lovers – it wasn’t that kind of relationship. But we strolled arm-in-arm through art museums and had long, deep, earnest conversations about poetry and art, Zen Buddhism and biology, a combination that probably seems like a crazy quilt. Those things were all elements of the beauty and interconnectedness in the world, and made perfect sense to us as students of the sciences, and lovers of the artistry conceived by people and nature.

We lost touch years ago, but I’d sometimes wondered what became of him. He was a gentle soul, soft-spoken and intensely thoughtful, but appreciative of a joke or funny story – he often punctuated his meditative comments with a wink and a wry smile.

I walked through a beautiful Indian Summer morning today, gazing up at the blue, blue sky, and at red-orange-gold-green leaves arrayed like splashes of paint on the trees, and imagined him walking the same path. At one point, a shower of tiny leaflets sprinkled slowly down over me, the golden orbs spinning balletically, and I could picture him pinwheeling around through them, grinning beatifically.

Sleep well, old friend.

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About rangermoi

I'm a former park ranger and teacher, mother of two no-longer-teenage sons, avid cook and reader and the Official Family Memory. I thought I'd better get some of those remembrances down before they all leak out of my senior-moment-affected brain!
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3 Responses to Turn, Turn to the Wind and the Rain

  1. Tara says:

    What a nice way to remember someone.

  2. Betsy says:

    Wonderful remembrance. This post reminded me that this month marks the 2-year anniversary of the passing of one of my favorite college professors. There does indeed seem to be a melancholy comfort in the splendor of this season, as it is quite skilled at teaching us to see the beauty of shedding ephemeral skin.

    • rangermoi says:

      I heard recently that one of my favorite college professors died, too. He was about grandma and grandpa’s age – in fact, he was in the 10th Mountain Division (the ski troops) during WWII. He made dendrology (the study of trees) incredibly interesting – I loved going on the field hikes with him – and he also led yearly trips up Algonquin in the Adks. Great guy.

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