A few weeks ago our son-in-law found a dead raccoon in the woods at Fair Haven. A bobcat had taken it. Several weeks later as my lover and I were walking in the cool of the evening we came upon its remains. I always marvel at a skeleton, one of the greatest metaphors for the real reality. A marking of passing away, an exact record of being and non-being. The profoundness of the creative process in life, the structure giving underlayment as you will, the guideline for the artist in the studio as he develops the human's outline. It also stirs in me something of Eden, of The Almighty, of the final tolling of my own bell, what will go on and what will be left here. Bones tend to be as eternal as life here on earth can muster but even ours will eventually turn to dust. Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. But The King Eternal has provided for a way to be neither and it is my hope for you and for Rocky Raccoon found in his Gideon’s Bible.
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