A Deep River Year - 2017

Summer's end is celebrated all through New England with a host of country fairs. We head to the fairgrounds to walk through the animal barns, to eat grossly unhealthy fried food, and to listen to the honky-tonk sounds of midway games and carnival rides. Last weekend I won a big blue ribbon for my tiny Mexican cucumbers. One of my granddaughters took home a prize for her artwork, and the other won a ribbon for her horse collection. We felt like champions! Near the exhibit building, contestants vied in a frog jumping contest to see who could make a big bullfrog hop the farthest. The poor frog obviously had jumped its limit, and it wasn't happy to be out in the sun, either. One little girl bent down to plead with it to make at least a little effort, but whispering in that frog's ear wasn't sufficient motivation. The frog went back in its box, and we headed over to the commercial exhibits, where I found a booth selling marshmallow shooters made out of miscellaneous plumbing equipment. For five bucks, it was a steal.

While the fair-goers were enjoying the festivities in these most beautiful of days, a terrible hurricane was ravaging the Gulf Coast, blowing houses away, flooding one of the largest metropolitan areas in the country, and devastating millions of lives. It is a hard truth that tragedy and joy take place side by side. Every day sorrow and grief break hearts while being encircled by lovers kissing, children blowing out birthday candles, and families gathering around tables to taste the goodness of life. Two years ago today our son Adam died unexpectedly, and our lovely August day was riven with the sword of terrible loss. We cope, somehow, then and now, by feeling the pain and letting ourselves love a little more. We hold on to the people around us a little tighter. We remember that it is up to us to help when others fall. And we live the good days: eat, laugh, breathe deep, smell the grass and marvel at the stars. We shoot marshmallows at death.

The Great Fair

Sunshine and blue sky,
and a soft stirring of wind
bears the sound of carnival music,
the aroma of cattle and horses,
and the whisper of autumn in the air.
So we walk in the light
across the beaten grass,
eat sausages and laugh
as onions and peppers drip
abundandly down our chins
and onto our shirts.
But then we suddenly find ourselves
in another place, another time,
where shadows enfold us,
and we are broken, broken again,
standing at the empty place
where one of our most beloved is gone.
Through years and lifetimes
there are so many griefs,
so many pains we must endure
together:
we hope that there may be
for all of us
one more bright summer day--
one great country fair
under sunshine and blue sky--
where we shall come unwearied
to walk in wonder,
to feast on sausages and peppers,
to collect blue ribbons
for our our bravest deeds,
to see our missing ones
riding the carousel,
waving at us with joy.

--Timothy Haut