Solstice

Now the soft hour

Of walking comes; for him who lonely loves

To seek the distant hills, and there converse

With Nature, there to harmonize his heart,

And in pathetic Song to breathe around

The harmony to others.

-   Thomson, Seasons. Summer. L. 1,378.

I've been sitting here on my deck in the evening air, enjoying a break from the day's heat and listening to the birds give their last hurrah before sleep. This time of the day, when the air cools down and the animal and insect world gets suddenly active in the few hours before dark, is full of magic and energy. I can't help thinking about my cat Haley, and how much she loved being out on this deck in the evening. Haley was an indoor cat, necessitated by her having been de-clawed by her first human companion, and it wasn't until I moved to this place with its relatively safe and contained deck that she got a taste of the great outdoors. It may sound funny to say a cat could look blissful, but truly there is no other word for her expression while soaking up the sun or moonlight and watching the world float by. I felt so guilty bringing her in so I could go to sleep!

I'm thinking about Haley a lot these days, she died this past January of bone cancer, and thinking also of all the other animal and human departures that have influenced my little world so far this year. There have been a particularly high number of dear animal friends deciding it was time to cross over, and this has led me to more than the usual amount of pondering on the uncertainty of life and death, and how we live the one and transition to the other. In every animal I've known who has made this journey, and most personally in my cat, I witnessed amazing grace, love, and strength. I have learned so much from them all that I now feel able to find tremendous gifts both in their lives and in their presence in the other world. After the sadness dissipates a bit, there is as much to be learned from how one leaves this life, as there is in how one lives in it.

So, a few future posts here will be about transitions and the things I've learned from those animals and people whose passage to the next world I've been honored to witness. Death is something we don't really like to talk about, but it is part of living, and in the case of our pets, we make a choice to love and live with a being who is in all likelihood not going to be here as long as we are. What an a amazingly beautiful commitment that is to make, what a gift to share that small life for a short while, and how hard when reality comes. Unfortunately, all that not-talking-about-it leaves us ill-equipped to cope when we face the death of a loved one, or even, ultimately ourselves.

Now that I've gone and started on this topic, I'll leave it tonight with some things that have brought me comfort in these last few months of saying goodbye to so many. Each life is precious, and each matters hugely to someone, or something, somewhere. In our tiny little lives it's easy to get lost in the loss, and forget the wonder of being here at all. So tonight, as you go to sleep, take a little minute to be thankful for the wonder, for each of those stars that has shone in your life, and know, without a doubt, that they are with you always.