–Be kind. Always.–
Turning from north to south at the half-way point on my Rabbit Lane walk, I look southeast toward the mountain peaks still sleeping under the early-morning sky. A star rises from behind a peak and continues in its slow journey toward zenith.
To the east of where I walk, strings of lights move slowly in the distance, white lights crawling forward, red lights inching away, two parallel lines of progress making their way to and from the offices and factories and stores of wares. They send forth a collective engine-and-tire hum to hover over the fields with the fog. A Union Pacific train’s whistle flows out gently over the valley from its tracks on Lake Bonneville’s fossil bank. In the west, the lighthouse, itself out of sight, emits soft sweeping beams: white-green-white-green. The beams penetrate Winter’s ice-crystal air to trace slow arcs across the gray belly of the sky, a ceiling above me, above Rabbit Lane. The universe of stars—the heavens—are out there, somewhere farther above, hanging mostly hidden by clouds. My fingers, toes, ears, and nose ache from the crystalline cold. Continue reading