Death. The Big Enchilada.
Always looming. The Looming Big Enchilada. Last day of August. End of Summer in the air. Days noticeably shorter. The light is different, the angle of the Sun, lights up everything with a subtly golden glow. The End of Summer Glow.
I met a friend on the trail yesterday. He told me that this time of year always brings a hint of depression. Summer always holds such promise, long days of dreaming and rambling. When we were kids we'd be out all day, riding our bikes, poking around the areas of wilderness. The End of Summer meant back to school, for me, it also meant: regimentation, school uniforms, tan shirts, blue ties, Nuns, guilt, pain, sin, homework, Jesus, Prisons of the Mind.
Last night I had a dream. I was preparing for a long trip. A trip to France. This morning I recall the dream and say to myself: "That was a dream about Death." Right. There is a grand theme. Everything dies. Everyone, everything we know. For awhile, I thought, well, who knows, maybe it won't happen to me? Crazy thinking. No one gets out alive. Still, I also think of the Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear the Reaper." Death is just there. Waiting. Why worry? It will come when it comes.
Those flowers in full bloom, plants, trees, little critters. Death is our Constant Companion, the Silent Watcher, the Man in Black, the Pretty Maid with sharp blade in hand. I think it's some kind of transformation, an ending and a beginning. I always find a glimmer of light thinking about energy. Everything becomes everything else. That's how it's all connected. Will I know, will I remember? Probably not, but oh well..
Who knows what's around the next corner? The Big Enchilada...