Weariness in Well-Doing
11/05/2010 03:33 a.m.
November is always a meditative month, I often turn to poetry; but last night I found another solace: a pseudo-campout in my own yard. No, not for my benefit; we did the road cleanup for Scouts (from the church up to the corner of Highway 30 and Beaver Dam Road), and I prepared it for them. I made a Limburgse Vlaai (blueberry with almonds and plenty of "floof"), then lit the fire I've been stacking in the back firepit for much of the summer, moved the picnick table closer, and finally hung the Coleman lantern from one of the Box Elders. As the fire crackled and the lantern hissed, I suddenly felt even more at home at home. A feeling of calm and solid contentment seemed to fill me. I felt like I really could go on (for who knows how long) with Troop 136: this really was me. I thought, "If I ever turn into a crazy old man (which I very well could), I bet I'd calm down and show my normal side if they just sat me down by a campfire. And they'd say, 'Notice how he's calmed down and seems more like his own self, here around the fire. I guess those things you do for so many years remain with you inside, even when the mind and body get old and fall apart.'" And I do think my body remembers the serenity of the camp life and the celestial light generated in the sparks of a campfire; it was as much a physical calm as it was a mental respite. Yes, and the kids liked it after the road cleanup, and they ate all of the Vlaai (Brother Roberts ate his share too--perhaps our last time working together in such a setting), and we played "Jack's Alive" around the fire, and closed with the Scout Oath, the Scout Law, and a prayer "to get us all home safely"--oh that perilous, trecherous road away from Church, and I only had to stay comfortably at home.
I am currently Tired
I am listening to Switched on Bach