Tuscaloosa, Alabama

This is the last of the fog series, which means I will have to actually go out and shoot new stuff. I am grateful that I am able, grateful that I have the ability to find an outlet for the tumult within, grateful for the words and images that spill forth, even when I try to suppress them.

Tonight I am also grateful for:

the sunlight that streamed through the trees and dried my tears as I lifted my face to the heavens this morning;
the blue skies that followed yesterday’s dreary rain;
the clean white marble that covers Boogie’s grave and gives me something tangible to care for in his absence;
the rose petals that blow across his grave and the friend who gave me a mental picture of his kitten spirit frolicking among them;
the unexpected phone call that brightened my day and helped me find the girl I so seldom see;
the radio station that finally is playing decent music again;
the car that gives me the freedom to go where I want;
the new bookshelves that allowed me to bring out the beloved books that have been boxed away since the move;
the project that is completed and the other project that is near completion;
the money that will finish paying off Boogie’s vet bill;
the trip to Target that entertained that silly clothes/hair/makeup girl inside of me;
the strangers who have opened up their hearts to bring their own stories of love and loss to my screen;
the kitties that are waiting for me to come to bed;
the boy who didn’t fuss over a day of “shopping therapy;”
the season that reminds me not only of the recent pain of loss, but also of new beginnings forged so many years ago;
the Earl Gray that awaits me in the morning;
the warm blanket that I will wrap around me tonight;

and the good sense to enjoy it all.

Music: Holiday by Green Day (lyrics)

Words: “A Small Psalm” by Catherine Wing, posted for the Oct. 25, 2005 airing of Garrison Keillor’s “The Writer’s Almanac.”.