Archive for November, 2009

River…..

Posted in Where Angels Perch with tags , , , , , , , on November 29, 2009 by rodzink

Paddling quietly… the veil of nightfall arriving like a rain settling over the water.  The colorful backdrop of the gorge had vanished as morning fog,  leaving mere memories in the shallows…  Hundreds of River Coots… an unworthy black fowl… pools of shadow on the black water… Belle sat silently with paddle across her lap as we drifted into their midst…. a single bird… then hundreds…. lifted… churning the water as if a horrible storm had set in…  The sound of hurried webbed feet ran across the water… outstretched necks… powerful wings gulping air…  bewildered eyes looked back at me…. scores of braids dangling….  The Coots settled and we continued our stealthy pursuit….  Gliding… silently…. 

Darkness fell and the last streaks of mirrored red recoiled from the river… Wind pushed the clouds back across the western horizon…. the infrequent call of a duck somewhere across the water.. resonated…. calling… tonight is hers to whisper the day’s sorrow towards the burning embers above…The silent River, as Moon ricochets Sun, bounced the chatter and voices of the gorge to and fro.  Warmed by the fire, I heard the voice of Tsi’ui’-Gunsin’ni… the river flows but one direction…  her current predetermined.. she changes her path for no one…but flows steadily to a known place.

Grateful…

Posted in Where Angels Perch with tags , , , , , on November 22, 2009 by rodzink

I’m so grateful…. listened to the football announcer call out my son’s name after many plays… “tackle by Baker Zink”… “brought down by Baker Zink”…..  I could have blocked out everything… but considered the simple things.  He stood on a large field, covered like a gladiator.. and met another head-on… I’m so grateful.. just that he can stand.. play… run… 

This morning, I sat on the edge of Belle’s bed… a couple dozen braids in her thick hair… pouty little, round face….  she called out from her warm bed, “Daddy, can you get me a drink….?”  I’m grateful and it was my privilege…. to spend precious moments of her day braiding her hair…

Dad called…. drove across town to stop by one of our construction sites.. just checking in…. I’m grateful…  Funny to hear him laugh, the same laugh of my childhood.. But now, it’s warm to me…  I’m grateful for friends, family…

I’m grateful.. watched leaves fall for weeks after turning to brilliant yellows and reds… walked miles of trail… pet a stray pitbull… watched the fog settle in over the river…. 

I’m grateful for heroes… losers… winners…  beggars… for that mighty hand that cups us all.. shakes us out… calls us equal. The hand that sets us up… and takes us down….

I’m grateful for my immediate family…  We are truly… definitively… a family… My little girl…. my boy.  I’m grateful that hearts are capable of hardening… softening… becoming callus… melting… I’m grateful to be one of the lucky, blessed inhabitants of this big place.. given the second chance to reposition my unstable steps…  Stripped of the unnecessary interferences of life… my eyes are clear now… and I’m grateful for the walk I’ve taken.  As I break bread this week, I have a heart of thanksgiving.  There is much for which to be grateful…. the immeasurably, insignificant, priceless things…

Boundless….

Posted in Where Angels Perch on November 5, 2009 by rodzink

Before these fields were shorn and till’d, Full to the brim our rivers flow’d; The melody of waters fill’d, The fresh and boundless wood; And torrents dash’d, and rivulents play’d; And fountains spouted in the shade.  (Bryant)

DSC02993Baker cupped a handful of  Sassafras leaves..held them close to his nose as if breathing a full-bodied merlot….a scent of lemon mixed with Earth and moss..  Young saplings…no higher than trumpet creeper and ginseng… densely covered the leaf covered, damp ground… the expanse from there to the existing canopy reflected the lack of new growth for decades. Scrub plants… green briar… struggling to reach sunlight… and failing.

Seasons pass… filtering the sun and rain… the leaves are again returning to the awaiting soil.  I’m shedding the unnecessary…slowly, methodically, painfully.  As the foilage thins, I’m seeing myself at the core, wondering what’s just inside this thick, coarse bark.  The rings in the yellow wood are increasing. 

Learning to look into subsequent seasons.. knowing that today’s decay brings tomorrow’s green growth.  Perhaps, heavily scented Sassafras. But…these two… my purpose….  they are growing… innately eager to stretch towards the warmth of promise… security…. and there is an incredible expanse between the ground where we stand and the possibilities of tomorrow…Life itself… should be celebrated…lived… Ready to pursue better days and they are coming… I know it.  I am unraveling… realizing…. settling in to this new world and grateful for another day.  Exhaling yesterday…. breathing in my tomorrow. 

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I’ve watched them… grow.. become strong… lean into the wind.. exposed to the elements.  One day, I’ll have to let go.. that day is not today.