Louis Armstrong, What a Wonderful World , What a Wonderful World
The church is my sanctuary. I have visited it often, never entering, always reverent and respectful. I sit on the steps, quietly with water and snack. It welcomes me like a warm blanket, wrapping me in hope and patience.The tombstones are well kept and old... old like the town, old like the church, old like we will become. I am struck with the perfect whiteness of the clouds, the wind swept tree, the Franz Marc blue of the sky, and I think of bright blessed moments.
The return was into the wind. At times I was crawling with teeth clenched and back bent over the frame. It was a hard ride, a real slog measured in inches, but I slowed my mind to match my cadence and I drifted into the searing wind. Time slowed and with it came a peace that matched the wind in its intensity. The gear ratio was down low, really low, and it felt wonderful. My legs pumping, my calves smooth and pain free, breathing evenly. Thoughts swirled through my mind like the dust vortex by my side. Good thoughts, sad thoughts, swept away with the north wind. Gone and forgotten.
It's a good day to be alive.