First Blush

Reflections and sightings from [almost] daily jogging at dawn

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Sunrise 6:51: Clearly not black or white

On a sparkling beautiful morning of what will be a "big event" day, the female Dawn Jogger started out in a reflective mood on her Saturday Big Dish run. It was a year ago that marks in her mind "the last normal weekend," not literally - the brain journey didn't actually begin for another three weeks. But the DJs had journeyed together with good friends to Pasadena for the wedding of Anne and Stuart and had taken the long run they'd so often enjoyed when they lived in the area. It was a weekend of festivities and hopeful new beginnings. During the same period, the rector search committee was excitedly narrowing the candidate selection, moving through phone interviews and deciding who would be visited in person. That process resulted in the call of the Rev. Mike Spillane, who will be installed as the 17th rector of Holy Trinity this afternoon. That the year since had brought so many serious health challenges - and resulting mobility issues - to so many of the people on her mind caused her to be less than bright, even on a dazzling blue sky morning.

But grace was with her. After months of being on the other side of the hill, a number of black and white "police cow" youngsters were grazing close enough to Alpine to allow her to snap a photograph. She was not their only admirer; she was soon joined at the fence by a man who'd pulled his car over and taken out a camera. Buoyed by the police cows, the female DJ decided to bring the male DJ, Mike and Anne with her in spirit as she moved up the first Big Dish hill. About half way up, she encountered a friend she's known almost her entire life, since Brownie days at Hillview School. (Dressed in black and white, she seemed to be paying homage to the cows.) It had been a year and half or so since they'd last talked, so they caught up with each other's lives as they made their way up the hill. The friend, too, knew about life's speed bumps, having been widowed suddenly as a young woman and then almost losing her current husband in a serious bicycle accident. One thread of conversation, which often comes up among those who had the privilege of being raised in the Menlo Park/Atherton area in the 50s and 60s, is how little they were prepared for life's curves, given their near idyllic child and teenage years. But now they know they must make their way - older, wiser and sadder. It's just not a black and white world but friends and faith help heal the spirit and nourish the soul. Not to mention the sight of police cows...



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