We can all most assuredly look toward that time and moment when we say goodbye to this place. We can do this with or without all our contrived philosophies on the matter.

One thing is for sure: the time comes.

To modify that just a little. If we are younger…

The rich, golden wheat fields stretched out before her eyes for infinity.

The wind swept the sun painted wheat as though gentle waves off the Caribbean shore. Kansas was no place to be without money. And yet there she was. Buffalo grazed lazily nearby. Her ramshackle cabin she lived in…

The sun was settling, another day coming to its inevitable end.

She’s determined that her life was soon to end. Her desperation was beyond what most might endure. Her husband cheated on her. The strange pain in her chest was persisting.

Her two kids had grown and were out of…

in a breath

I get glimpses

Fleeting

Autumn sun

Chill air

But there, as real

Memories touched but utterly in the present

Hone in, zero in

Hold gently

When moving,

The passing breeze

The light

As though the changing

season

But it’s clearly there

A vein so rich

A glimpse

of joy

Maybe impossible to describe

But there all the same

Brings me to a place of

peace and comfort

For microseconds

Then gone

Makes its all

So worth it

Yes

So worth it

Worth the struggle

Age related?

Could be

Not sure

Reemerging sense of what is?

Could be

Don’t know

Something new though

Something brilliant and

happy

The early evening chill cut through my light jacket.

As always, the Guatemalan night sky had an undeniable purple hue. The subtle breeze met us in the face as we walked the block to our best friend’s house.

The large pines sang a wind song. A large cone fell loudly…

So the weed vendors hang at the corner of Sol and Cabañas.

Those guys are there all day, every day. ‘Hey you ol man, want some weed man? Good stuff for you old man’

‘No, gracias.’ I always say. I keep moving down the way past the computer repair place.

…

From twenty yards away, something caught my eye that was stuffed under a low-lying hedge of holly that grew thickly at the edge of the ‘islands’ forest. A camouflage duffel of the kind used by military personnel when traveling looked like it was stuffed full.

So what would you do…

Working on my damn taxes. That time of year.

I don’t have an accountant. Costs too much. They gouge your eyes out.

‘I just don’t get it, Gordy. Why don’t you give that to one of those tax services. You’re working yourself into a nervous wreck. You’re driving me crazy.’

…