Evening fell pushing a full moon high up into the early evening sky. Three huge ducks flew through the twilight sky honking back and forth to one another. I found myself wondering what it must have been like when the sky was filled with homeward bound ducks honking and forming an aerial V shape formation. Now I wonder which direction was considered home. The journey south for the winter or the journey north for the remainder of the year.
I watched a documentary tonight. It was about John Lennon and Yoko Ono. Before I turned the t.v. off Yoko Ono was talking about her childhood in Japan. Her family was prestigious and wealthy. She lived a charmed life. Japan was bombed and her world changed. Her next memories are of living in the country, foraging for food with nothing left of the lifestyle she knew before the bombing. She said she spent many years looking for the way back to a home that no longer existed. The moment I heard those words I realized they told my story. Years of looking for the way back to a home that no longer existed says everything about the illusion I held dear to myself and the dream I pursued despite all evidence to the contrary.
Silent Sentinel is an odd name to give a post that appears to be anything but silent. When I began this post, I had a vision of a watchman on a tower and I felt the dark, foreboding of approaching doom. But that vision has been ruined by Game of Thrones and many other movies with the towers, darkness and ominous unknowns lurking in the shadows.
I considered renaming the post, caught a glimpse of my ego strutting back and forth as if the title on this post in this blog matters worth a tinker's damn. The title stays. The ego can shuffle off to Buffalo for all I care at this moment.
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