It is the predawn twilight. The scarlet of first light has already faded, but the sun still lies below the horizon. Deer move slowly through the woods, as if they haven’t quite awakened, or, perhaps, are preparing to sleep after a night of foraging. Plump turkeys are silhouetted against the sky, sound asleep in their tenuous roosts. The first birds flutter to the feeders. The lake at the bottom of the hill catches the light and shines a pale aqua, later to change to a colorless shimmer that blinds and blurs its outlines into an indefinable form. A faint dusting of snow lies across the fallen trees and the roof of the abandoned spring house down the hill. The temperature is, as my mother used to say as I was dressing for a winter walk to school, bitter.
During the power outage Wednesday night, my husband and I sat by the fire with our big dogs and talked about gratitude. About grace. About redemption. And about undeserved luck, both good and bad. In the dark it is somehow easier to find the hidden mysteries. But as I sit in the early light atop my little hill looking down into the valley of so many lives, some visible, some not, I know there are secrets before me that I cannot know. In each of the living things below is a whole world: Each an individual with emotions, sufferings, hungers, relationships, even dreams. Whole universes in every one.
Someone that day told a story of the kind of casual killing humans do daily. “It was only a squirrel.”
But I thought: Not only.
***
I invite you to subscribe.
I know. The world is a little crazy, and it’s hard to even think about current events these days. So, why not hang around with us for a while? It’s a polite and kind community of animal lovers and readers of my novels, who may or may not agree on everything, but manage to be civil anyway. And you don’t have to subscribe to read or comment.
But, if you’re interested, there are several ways you can help support my work: You can become a paid subscriber (see below), and you can also purchase my books—even pre-order the new novel, Throwing Bears for George—at your favorite bookseller. Some of my favorite shops are Honest Dog Books, Boswell Book Company, Mystery to Me Books, Books and Company, Barbara’s Bookstores, Barnes & Noble, Target, and, of course, here. My illustrated children’s book, My Dog Pete is available only here. Thank you!
If you can’t spend the money right now, look for my books in the library—please ask for them if you can’t find them—and stick around anyway. Because you don’t have to pay to read or participate.
On the other hand, paid subscribers will have access to previews of the new novel.
And don’t forget: All through December there’s a Kindle sale on both my books of essays, But Still They Sing, and Reflections on a Life in Exile, winner of the 2020 Shelf Unbound Notable Indie Award.
So there’s that.
JFR
And now for your gratuitous dog photo:
Well that certainly brought tears to my eyes. You have a way, both in your books and in random musings, to bring the reader into your space and away from their own, if only for a snippet. Such a beautiful gift.
What a beautiful animal is Mr Auggie, and such a fine companion which is obvious. In my community there are some people who will purposely go out of their way to run over animals. I witnessed this first hand, seeing a concrete truck driver change lanes so he could run over an armadillo crossing the road. There is a special place in hell for such people.