paradox

We are one day past the solstice. Humans, from first awareness of this astronomical good news, rejoiced with maximum revelry and minimum sobriety. Even though they also knew: The worst is yet to come. Winter, in this part of the world, is only beginning.

Other mammals aren't fooled. They slow down. They grow more fur. They wait for the sun to be more than an ornament. They aren't troubled by the apparent paradox of more light and more ice, snow, frigid air. They're like Ralph, now listing to his right and pressed against Rich's photo.

But he's missing out on the best part. He will never be human (he's too cute, anyway) until he learns the joy of living as paradox.

Which is more than tolerable. It's pleasure. Because Rich continues to teach me in the way lovers do, with surprise and joy as he leads me into a place I could never have entered without him.

We're both heading home, wherever that may be.

Candace