An Age of Miracles
“There is no decency or sense in honoring one thing, or a few things and then closing the list. The pine tree, the leopard, the Platte River, and ourselves — we are at risk together, or we are on our way to a sustainable world together. We are each other’s destiny.”
— Mary Oliver, Upstream
We live in an age of miracles.
One morning, sitting in a restaurant in a Denver suburb, I had a wonderful meal. Shredded beef short rib, seasoned perfectly, served under an egg and covered by an excellent green chili. Music played overhead — a soulful, bluesy piece by B.B. King. While I savored the meal, I read a novel that I’d downloaded to my phone, paused to arrange a Christmas purchase with my mom, and talked with my daughter in Guatemala, my sisters, and Karin in Maryland — all via text.
After breakfast, I popped into a drugstore and got an immunization to prevent influenza. I replenished my travel kit with a toothbrush and razor before taking a beautiful, blustery walk in one of my favorite Denver parks. Then I drove to the airport and boarded a plane that, as I wrote this, carried me to Minnesota and North Dakota, where I shared my expertise with people who need it. Then I visited a friend of many years.
Miracles.
