Thursday, May 10, 2012

A Tale Called Time


It's been many years since I read Born on the Fourth of July, the story of Ron Kovic and the terrible aftermath of his time served in Viet Nam, yet I still can recall my response and the tears shed while reading his closing words remembering a particular day in his young life, a moment of almost unbearable poignancy, before the war and the wheelchair. He wrote, "There was a song called "Runaway" by a guy named Dell Shannon playing one Saturday at the baseball field. I remember it was a beautiful spring day and we were young back then and really alive and the air smelled fresh...."

This seemingly small moment in time had somehow remained fixed, as though the day itself had just happened and all of life was yet to come. We probably all have these moments, moments that come to define us. I am very grateful that my own have not been marked by tragedy.

On days such as this one, it's easier to sense the goodness life has wrought. The sun is shining bright in a cloudless blue sky, a slight breeze comes up every few minutes and rustles the leaves on the trees. Three goldfinches share the bird feeder with a pair of red-winged blackbirds, the deep pink blossoms of a crab apple tree as their backdrop. The shadows created by the tree limbs, outlined on the grass below, feel peaceful and right.




Earlier, I had walked to the almost-overgrown orchard next to the field and watched as a bumblebee buried its nose in a soft white apple blossom, while a small yellow butterfly settled briefly in the tall grass, flew a few inches and settled again, doing this over and over until it moved out of sight.




On my way back to the house, I stopped to look at the old license plates Otis had nailed to the shed in the years before I arrived, a simple progression of numbers telling a tale called time.




Then, I looked over at my garden gate and thought of the sugar snap peas, quietly pushing their way through the dark earth to the waiting sunlight.





"Runaway," for those who might want to remember:






17 comments:

  1. It's definitely the small moments, a particular smell, the way the light strikes something (or someone) that mark our journey through life. We who remember to take the time to mark those moments are blessed.

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  2. Oooh Teresa...your words just dance! Love reading your posts, just love them! Thanks for sharing your thoughts...

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  3. It's been a long time since I read that book. It amazes me how much I've forgotten. Maybe it's time to read it again.

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  4. Your time elements play out so nicely in this post. Past time adjacent to now time and future time seen in your plants -- although time can appear to stand still during mystic moments it soon blows away like the wind and continues its cycles of emotions. Enjoyed -- barbara

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  5. Very nice thoughts to share, those sugar snaps sound real good.Not much of a garden this year for me and I hate it.

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  6. I Remember having "Runaway" as an old 45.Although,I never read Ron's book.I Must,In Future.
    I love your ability to describe Nature.I can taste those snap peas!!!!
    Time is a problem,but I,m not sure where we would be without it.A Bit of a Pickle I suspect....?

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  7. I just love the line, "A bumblebee buried its nose in a soft white apple blossom". What a great visual image to share!

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  8. Dear Teresa, . . . I'd never heard the song "Runaway" before as Shannon must have done most of his work while I was in the convent. So thank you for introducing me to it.

    I hope poems are growing within you and that the "telling" words are gifting you with their presence.

    Peace.

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  9. I love the thought of the peas, getting ready, hidden, but active - little bits of hope, a promise that good things are on their way.

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  10. I'm sure this post sparked many memories of those moments, ordinary at the time but special in retrospect. I'm enjoying a few of them right now.

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  11. I talked to my husband on the phone this morning (I'm in California this week) and asked him how the vegetables are coming along. He said they're all fine. I said how about the carrots, which I haven't seen yet. He said, "Nope, not yet. They're slow learners." !!!

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  12. Perhaps the bees and the butterflies have it right, their lives entwined with little spots of beauty, a little nectar, some pollen, such simple needs.

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  13. Thank you all for taking the time to read and respond. I so appreciate all of your comments. I can step outside on any given day and find dozens of things for which to be very grateful. I know you can and do, too. It's such a beautiful world, isn't it?

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  14. First of all, I clicked on Del Shannon JUST as the rain started pouring down here. Now, how special is that kind of moment? Runaway will be drumming through my head all day, Teresa, and memories of dancing to this on a Saturday night and I know that after the rain here, the air will smell fresh.

    I can still remember the process of reading Kovic's book. That he could still remember the good moments after all he had been through.

    This is such a touching, wonderful post. I love watching the bumblebees flit back and forth and your words capture it so well. It is the small moments, isn't it? Yes, Teresa, it is a beautiful world.

    Happy Mother's Day.

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    1. And a Happy Mother's Day to you, Penny. Thank you so much.

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  15. I read "Born on the Fourth of July" after reading this post. I cried - The true story was one more reason for my post yesterday; one more reason for my lifetime of questioning why and my long life of cry. We must never forget our past; but most important also look forward with hope and determination to change our future time.

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    1. Dear Carolyn, It's beyond shameful that we never dealt adequately with the fallout from Viet Nam and the horrible psychic damage it did to so many. I'm sure you must still be struggling with the suicide of your brother. And now, we have a whole new generation to face those same unbearably difficult times. I hope you find peace in the coming days and months.

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