Death And Springtime

Putting Mingo to sleep when he got sick was not a hard choice to make.  It is hard living with that choice.  I loved him very much and I will always miss him, as I miss all my loved ones.

It is lovely outside, I am facing Little Bay as I write, and it is all over sailboats and watercraft.  

The seasons used to last forever.  All possibilities were endless.  The day would last, well, all day.  But I was never happy.  I take refuge in my drawings of talking animals, and even I realize that I am not up to the mark.

I read a lot but nothing like I used to.  Adventure is no fun if you are aware that you could never join in on it.  Without dreams life is dull and arid.

Yet I walk outside and it is so nice to have such weather.  

I think often of the koan of the man hanging from a cliff with a tiger on the ground above him.  He is beginning to fall when he sees a strawberry in front of him.  He eats it.

Tiger.

Cliff.

Strawberry.

Life is to be enjoyed.