Albert Camus

Autumn is a second Spring when every leaf is a flower.

 

September 29, 2017

One year ago this week, Toughie, the last Rabbs’ fringe-limbed tree frog on Earth, died at his home in the Atlanta Botanical Garden.

His kind will never again know existence.

The damage we humans are doing to this beautiful living planet we’ve been given is beyond description and comprehension.

My heart bursts with sadness for Toughie and all the other sentient beings we have destroyed and continue to destroy.

Homo sapiens’ evolution as steward for planet Earth is a cosmic joke of the highest order.

Pray that we don’t make it to other planets, that we aren’t given an opportunity to destroy the universe.

FOR AMANDA 2DAY

Something changes the moment you decide you’ve found a person you are ready to reveal parts of your soul to. Something stands out and makes the moment unique. A profound multidimensional clarity resembling a piece of carefully gathered stardust, as if you are whispering “finally” and your eyes fill with light and spontaneity, as if you do not care whether your heart will melt or crumble in the process because your brief courage undoes your tremendous fear of disbelief. You live for these moments, for you are, maybe for one second or more, sweetly forced to surrender yourself to unconditional intimacy: a┬ámoment of psychological reward smashing all self imposed disciplines founded on terror. This is all you need.

 

Anais Nin

So We’ll Go No More a Roving

So, we’ll go no more a roving

So late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,

And the moon be still as bright.

 

For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And love itself have rest.

 

Though the night was made for loving,

And the day returns too soon,

Yet we’ll go no more a roving

By the light of the moon.

 

George Lord Byron

In Memoriam A.H.H.

I hold it true, what’er befall;

I feel it when I sorrow most;

Tis better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all.

 

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Eva Royce

Evie was my French teacher for my sophmore, junior and senior years at Catalina High School

She was the best teacher I ever had

And one of the two genuinely kind people I have ever known

I was regularly at her home during my college years

I still have the letters which she wrote me during our two year correspondence while I was in Washington for my first two years of law school

A photograph of her and me, taken when I was in my early 30s, is on my desk, to my right, as I type this

She and her roommate, Elizabeth Frantz, were mainstays of my youth and young manhood

I closed Evie’s eyes the morning she died

Happy Birthday Dear Evie

I love you and I miss you

Every Friday night, year after year, I have asked God to watch over your spirit

Just as you always watched over mine