I have always been aware of my hands. From an early age as I viewed my hands outstretched in front of me, I somehow felt that the image of my hands would always be there. That one would be able to frame the present through those same hands and measure the passage of time by seeing the change upon the frame.
My hands now carry the scars and memories of my life. As do most everyones. I have always heard that the eyes are the window to our soul, but I believe the hands expose a more detailed view of our story.
My hands are stiffening with age. They carry the pain of arthritis. Having never thrown a punch in my life, I still somehow question how I could even have the grip to toss a baseball, much less a punch.
Deadheading flowers in the garden is about as tough a foe as I deal with.
It is a marvel to find details of life within the wrinkles of time.
What story do your hands tell?…monos en theos…†…jim
“If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children, I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life.” Rachel Carson
Somedays I feel like such a voyeur of life. It is so intriguing to follow a scene and imagine about the wonder of someone elses wonder.
Don’t lose the wonder of story and life. monos en theos…†…jim
THE BLUE DOOR & GATE
In traveling to New Mexico, I am pulled to the warm way of gates and doors there. This one in La Mesilla is one I have drifted by for almost forty years.
During all seasons it beckons. It begs me to hear the weathered squeak as I let myself enter. Ah, to have the courage to cross, to share my story with the walls and the occupants, just so I could hear a little of theirs.
It would be worth the price of admission I’m sure. ††† en theos ††† jimwork
We were driving back from the “big” city, Midland/Odessa and cruising down Ranch road 1503. Mostly our time was spent watching out for the crazy, large, over-loaded and over bearing oil field trucks.
And then there it was. An old structure sitting along the west side of the road just south of Imperial Texas. Knew there had to be a story there. The tale however remained unfurled, but the image give the story room to roam. A real mystery.
Leave somethings to the imagination! ††† en theos ††† jimwork