Teetering. Or not…

0657/16th September 2022

This morning’s colour was a delicate shade of apricot

Which suddenly turned very opaque!

The mist appeared to rise into what had been a clear sky.

And shafts of light broke the resultant cloud.

Not long after, the hill opposite lit up briefly.

Nature’s light show.

This time of year, the early sun lights up my memorial crystals that decorate our front window.

And yes, the dust on them as well.

None of my earlier pets had such memorials which has not made them less memorable.

More recently, wind chimes have marked the passing of beloved cats.

When I see the reflections or hear the tinkling chimes, I always think back to all that shared a part of my life.

It’s a sentimental sort of thing that has been turned into a good earner for enterprising artists.

So many of us are bowled over with grief on the loss of a pet. We don’t know what to do with it, often feeling that it is inappropriate and so we purchase little mementos.

They gather dust and hair from other pets. Ultimately they will be meaningless, all of us forgotten in the winds of time. It is the way of things, for the vast majority.

Only the very famous or infamous live on in history or legend. It doesn’t make them less dead. In many cases it would be better if their stories died with them.

It is good for us to have heroes to look up to, to emulate but in truth, if we search with unbiased eyes, do we not discover that even our heroes had their faults, their short-comings?

The passing of Queen Elizabeth inevitably saw a tsunami of commentary from around the world including some very nasty messages.

Putting myself in the place of the originators of those remarks, I can understand to an extent the feelings behind them.

Yet is there a civilization on earth with an unblemished history? If there was, their survival would have been short, such is the nature of human society.

There was a time, not so long ago, when such thoughts would have seen me in a bottomless pit of despair.

At times I still teeter on the edge of that pit, but living as I now do, divorced from the masses, I have been able to gain perspective and I daresay a part of it is the result of increasing age.

Things really don’t seem to matter so much anymore.

Someone may need to remind me of this next time I find myself wobbling on the edge!

Once again, thoughts arrived unbidden to control the words from my keyboard. I set off today in a very different direction!


“Who cares?” said Tinkerbelle.

“As long as you end up at the food shelf.”

10 thoughts on “Teetering. Or not…

  1. The edge of the pit of despair gets closer as we age, and become enveloped in reflection. The best advice is to turn your back to the edge, and carry on as normal. The pit will still be there, but you won’t be looking down into it.
    Best wishes, Pete.

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