The wind really picked up when we left the church after the high mass of christian burial.

(the scent of insence still in my nostrils)

My brothers and I carried his casket down the steps and into the hearse and then we followed the narrow, winding roads out from Coventry to West Greenwhich, out to the cemetery, on that day so barren and windswept and we laid him to rest. 

( we were all surrounded by family and friends but still so cold)

There were prayers and all those responses. 

(then it was over)

We made our way back to the car and everyone remarked on the wind and the cold.

Later we met at his house and talked into the evening, the house was silent except for the wind blowing outside the windows. 

(we were all reminded, in our own way, that everything was so different now even in this familiar place.)

Days later, when it was time to leave his house, I felt the most intense sadness surround my heart.

(it shrouded my vision and settled into my shoulders)

I looked around one last time and tried to remember all the things those walls could say if they could talk and not knowing what to say, I told him.to test in peace. 

( I locked the door as I left) 

I did not look back but I felt as if I was carrying all that has been into what will be. 
T.S. Deary 

I saw a murder of crows gathering near the house this morning.

I.stood and watched them rising and circling around in acrobatic waves of flying and then landing. 

The casual disturbance of the morning quiet was unsettling and made my mind wander to other places, past times, and now, to the time still carried around me.

I thought of death but also of the deep.mystery of creation and the circle of life, now so, recently closed again. 

Then there was that intelligent design and the patterns of their movements to and fro, up and down and back and forth.

(there were so many but still each seemed to take their turn.) 

I was transfixed at how audacious they were, fearless and free, as if they gathered just to show off, flexible and adaptable, those little feathered tricksters and all that noisy mischief.

T.S. Deary  3/14/2020