The Moon’s
Crest
The moon’s
crest was above and, as twilight snuck in, a gorgeous world opened up to us on Snowhill Road
I was with
Vivasvan, my support guy, when we noticed a tiny one an inch and a half in
length making his way across the road. I wanted to come down to his humble
level in an attempt to stroke him gently on his back. I poised myself for this
but heard a car coming. I rose and saw it was actually a van hauling a
residential vehicle. It came closer and I feared for the young crawling
fellow’s life. We could do nothing. The wheels of the van missed him but the
wheels of the trailer did not. I looked in horror at his head getting crushed….
Ohhhhh!
Harsh is
nature. Fragile is the self. Relentless are the machines. Callous is man.
Helpless is the individual.
Those were
our emotions or reactions over the mini drama. However, we had to carry on
walking. The day was warm in terms of what the coming hours offered but I was
also a trite disappointed over the motorists' indifference. Not one person
stopped to talk. Experience tells that that will change tomorrow. Let’s see.
We were
thrilled to be hosted in the home of Rupa Vilas, AKA Richard Mason, who was a
major mentor for me when I decided to go the way of the monk back in ’73 at the
Toronto
May the
Source be with you!
23 miles /
37 km
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