Caol Áit

Pondering the slowness of beauty and wisdom, and wondering if they might actually be the same thing.  

Pondering the ways that we sort out the mysteries.  

Pondering how reality for the storyteller is merely imagination for the listener/reader, and how reality for the storyteller can lead to imagination of what's to come.

Pondering the enormous amount of resolve and submission required to deal with the tough bits in life.  

Pondering respect and mutual submission, and basking in the several movements of the constant music of nature.

Papa Rod ponders how songs can understand us, and help us understand one another.  He also ponders the healthy, healing realization that he is unimportant.  

Triggered by the call of the midnight train, Papa Rod ponders the depth of loneliness felt and expressed by Whippoorwills, falling stars, train whistles, Autumn Robins, the moon, and Hank Williams.  We do well to learn to feel what others around us are feeling.  

Papa Rod ponders a night of dreaming, a day of exploring, and the evidence of things unseen.

pondering peace without clarity while riding in the chilly dark, bent on making it home.

The blessings of a campfire.