Last Light: The Twin Towers on the evening of September 10, 2001.
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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
From my youth up I never liked the city.
I never forgot the mountains where I was born.
The world caught me and harnessed me
And drove me through dust, thirty years away from home.
Migratory birds return to the same tree.
Fish find their way back to the pools where they were hatched.
I have been over the whole country,
And I have come back at last to the garden of my childhood.
My farm is only ten acres.
The farm house has eight or nine rooms.
Elms and willows shade the back garden.
Peach trees stand by the front door.
The village is out of sight.
You can hear dogs bark in the alleys,
And cocks crow in the mulberry trees.
When you come through the gate into the court
You will find no dust or mess.
Peace and quiet live in every room.
I am content to stay here the rest of my life.
At last I have found myself.
— Tao Yuan Ming (Tao Qian) Chinese, 365-427
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What a tough reminder, Gerard. Interestingly enough I was thinking about “last times” yesterday. As we’re getting older, there will be more and more last times. Which is appropriate, I think, since the first half of our lives is filled with “first times.” And the more first times we had, the more last times we’ll have.
Driving through downtown this afternoon, I realized I had already take my last drive on the viaduct and through the Battery Street tunnel quite a while ago. I loved the viaduct and the tunnel. Pretty soon it will be the last time for a lot of things that we’ve been doing for most of our lives.
On September 10th we said our prayers, climbed into bed, turned out the light, and went to sleep. I heard once that God made the world round so that we couldn’t see too far off into the distance.
The trick is to keep hope alive.