A Pocket Full of Gold and Glory

We had some appointments in town, and rain was moving around at the edges. So we didn't have any big plans outdoors, but on the way home, we stopped for 20 minutes at a favorite graveyard along route 550. It is called Gray's Cemetery, and I have spent many happy moments there, on my way to or from this or that.

The colors are fading fast here and the leaves are falling, but there are still pockets of amazing color to see. There is a local tree row by the cemetery that goes to gold in the first week of November each year, like clockwork, and I have been hooting and hollering and pumping my fist for it each time I go by. How wonderful to finally stop for a better look.

The ground is covered in a carpet of yellow leaves and flags wave there and it is simply amazing to see. I suspect the trees may be Norway maple, like that tree row that used to line the president's lane along the Arboretum; the tree row they cut down a few years ago, and I know why they did it, and for all good reasons, but it broke my heart a little.

Anyway, this is my golden tree row now, and for 20 glorious minutes, I walked around, taking pictures of the road lined with gold, and all of these wonderful trees, and the beautiful gravestones that mark the places where the remains of our best beloveds lie in peace and glory.

I have been thinking lately that I may have never seen a more beautiful autumn in my life. And the presence of all those grave stones got me pondering thoughts about mortality, and immortality. What do we take with us when we fly to glory? What do we leave behind? Why does nothing last? What does it all mean, anyway?

Bruce Springsteen did an amazing interview on the Howard Stern show in the past day or two, and in it he performed several of his favorite songs. The Boss spoke about how he sat and strummed his guitar as Clarence lay dying: how he played for him one of my favorite songs, Land of Hope and Dreams - a song about transitions between here and the next place - and it left me misty, to be sure. What an amazing final gift from a very special friend.

I remember when Clarence got so deadly sick, and they gave us an address we could write to, and I sent Clarence an encouraging email note. I asked the Big Man to LISTEN to his doctors, and behave, and take their advice, and LIVE; oh please, live to play that sax again! I did. It was cheeky of me but it had to be said, and I said it. We learned of Clarence's passing a few days later, and oh how we grieved - both for Clarence, and for Bruce.

I don't know if I know any of the answers to any of the questions I asked in this blip, except to take each moment as it comes and try to enjoy (and for us blippers - to capture) the beauty of it all, as nothing lasts. The wind takes the leaves, and down they come when it is their time. Nothing can stop it. It is the order of things. And so the world rolls on.

In the face of death and loss, live your life as large and beautiful as you can, so that your mouth can only speak words of gratitude when you look back upon it all. Did you love somebody? Did somebody love you? Did you do as much good as you could? Did you have some fun? Did you have the opportunity to do meaningful work, with like-minded souls? Did you see something beautiful every day? Yes? Good for you; you are winning!

Here's my soundtrack song for contemplating the meaning of it all, as I enjoy this pocket full of gold and glory that I will take with me, for I carry it in my heart: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, from the Madison Square Garden concert in 2000: Land of Hope and Dreams.