Finding Dees

Garnet
Scot
gather
challenge
tourist


I've been a tourist here before, maybe even pitched my little word tent and began. But, if I did, (and I'm not at all sure that I did), It was just once. In and out - the proverbial quickie. Wham bam, thank-you-and-maybe-I'll-be-back-and maybe-I'll-just-be-on-my -way-ma'am. The tourist thing, you see, is standing operating procedure for me. Life-defining A.D.D. of the soul.

Scot-shepherd-restlessness. No roots. Just chaff.

For a moment it's all interesting to me - a challenge - and then, like an infant no longer intrigued with the car keys and looking for something else noisy and bright, I'm on. Gone. So I can't even reassure you that I'll be back here tomorrow, or the next day. Or the next. Maybe.

Today I found Dees once again. Here in the ethernet he is constant as the ticking of a clock and it was reassuring to find him. I read two or three of his blogs, could hear his voice and see the unruly hair for a moment. We had this thing a long time back - a gang of four or five of us. We'd been brought together in the serendipity you have when you're young and in college and still you still allow for the possibility of perfect coincidence. Thereafter we used to gather around the New Year, but even that event became burdened. Our paths diverged.

We're all married now. Wives with birthstone jewelry. Aquamarines and garnets.

In truth, Dees was the only one of us who remained constant - Dees - who was the earthy, centered one most affected by gravity, or most in tune with it – as constant through the mail as through the ethernet where he still makes a nest. I realize I miss Dees. I debate whether I should let him know of this blog (refer back to paragraph number one). RIght now, it's just sort of a one-sided epistolary thing and maybe that's all it needs to be.

I have wheels on my feet and a duststorm at my back. Hey, Dees.