Hear and Attend and Listen, O Best Beloved...

This salutation-command originates from the beginning of one of my favorite stories by Rudyard Kipling, "The Cat Who Walked By Himself". It begs attention in rhythmic calliope, drawing the brain into the lulling call typical of Kipling who had an ethereal knack of cadence. Like ocean waves, or the sound of rain slapping on a forest of fallen leaves, his words soothe and remind you of the beat of our hearts. Luh dub, luh dub, luh dub, luh dub. We are us: fin, finger, feather, fur.

What comes to me this Sunday in December? I tentatively have finished the final project of the semester and such a sense of resolution has fallen, like a shawl Grandma has placed round my shoulders. Once I get the okay to bind, I run off four copies and get them signed by my professor. My reward is to write a bit, push things around some, and work on a drawing. At least for today.

I am restarting artwork, it will be the sixth creative stage of life and may become my most productive. Inspiration comes from a qualitative article stating how a number of women have come to eminence past the age of 60 and produce successfully well into their nineties; since I will be 59 very soon, I have a head start. Now what is meant by eminence? Nothing remarkable, just as widespread as I can make it.

I have to tell you, I am tired in such fashion that the doctor has ordered up a stress test for Wednesday along with a heart monitor which is mildly alarming, but the more I talk to people, the less frightening it seems. What comes will come, I'll be here.

Tonight the temperature is to drop and the wind to rise. Lay out the blankets, make sure your mittens are ready. Sleep curled in wool, knowing that the wind traverses from lake to foothill, an atmospheric sleighride from above catching in the eaves; hear the bending branches, say a small prayer for the birds. Socks and gown, flannel and friend. Good night.