Night. Prairie. A full moon begins its slow float across the sky. To the east, darkness. In the west, the last rays of sun glow. I’ll hear later that there are deer on the roadsides, waiting to hurl themselves in front of my car and both of us to oblivion, but right now I don’t see them. My headlights pick up just one raccoon as it lets me go by in peace and curls back into the grass.
I’m on my way home from an author reading. It meant driving 120 km/75 miles each way, and there were moments this afternoon when I wondered. Tired out with commitments and loss, my more courageous self wavered, then re-gathered strength. I’m glad. It might not have.
Because these readers are more than just friends. We go back. They connect me to the past, and to the present. Through space and time and change, we’ve known each other for lifetimes. Connections that can’t be broken, no matter how hard we might try. Sometimes a little driving is worth it.
J. Jill Robinson, fiction writer, editor and teacher. The award-winning author of a novel and four collections of short stories. Every word she chooses has a meaning and takes you deeper into the world she creates. Steven Ross Smith, poet, teacher, arts journalist and arts activist. Also award-winning and published in many countries. A master of the sounds of things. Married to Jill and both of them the parents of Emmett.
Facts are easy to account for.
But how do you account for more than 20 years of talking? Or trust, hard won and then freely given? Or the knowledge that wherever you are, this link continues?
I don’t know it now, but later this week I will let go of responsibilities and loss, go back to my studio. Connection works its magic, as always.
As I drive, night draws further in.
How will you let connection help you go where you need to?
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