New Years Eve 2020
The skies were a near unvarying shade of gray all day here in Middle Tennessee so that when the sun set for the final time on 2020 there were no spectacular shows of color, just a quiet fading to black. At first glance, it seemed a fitting end as I was driving back from the creek with the kids. The year of so much turmoil apparently has been left with no parting shots. I can’t help but be reminded of the last line of T.S. Eliot’s poem “The Hollow Men:” “This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper.”
But of course, this isn’t the end of the world, just the end of a rather tumultuous year. And it’s really only the end of a day. For tomorrow is a new one, and the ducks that were riding the current in the swollen creek today have no concept of this artificial date/time/calendar thing we impose upon our existence.
I took a walk with the kids and the dog and the wind and water were both alive. Cold air woke us …
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