Tilling Fallow Ground

In this week's Economist, the book reviewer, in reference to elegiac writing says, "...the very possibility of death's approach gives a new urgency and a new energy to the apprehending eye. Everything to be seen and heard becomes precious and surprising". It strikes me that it's not too late to recreate the state of time you need, to unwind the things less sublime, and address your world anew, if you need to. It just takes a bit of work. It's tempting to hide inward because there is so much reportage of bad news these days. It may make you want to weave a web of spit around you and hang upside down and let it harden. If you make a cocoon for yourself you will still eventually emerge a worm, a worm by any other name a worm, but with wings. I'm "long of time" these days, so have tackled a job that has been put off for years. The pianist has done a lot of it, but I confess, with very little input and even less effort on my part. The job consists of going through fifty years of photographs, slides, 8 millimeter movies and stereo slides, some in a state of relative disrepair and often not well edited. Far too many photos of landscapes, without people. At the time it seemed like a good idea, but if there aren't people, there's little sentiment. If we don't tackle the job now, it won't get done, as all our offspring and their children are too busy. We also have the older generation's pictures . We are the only ones who know who many of the people pictured from our prior generations are. We need mega-albums and captioning! Who else has time for this sort of stuff, other than a geezer? This is fallow ground that needs urgent tillage and the more I look at these images, the more enthused I get about putting them in order for those who will follow. These seeds have been sitting in the cupboard for a long time ,but they'll still germinate, and we're getting the ground ready for them.