When the Bough Bends

Ready or not, change has come.
The office was shocked and somber yesterday for word is the commissioner has scheduled a July guillotining, and one of the biggest heads is on the block. As a member of the entourage, mine may be too.
I am anxious, but another part of me is calm, even curious.
Have I finally grown faith in life or my ability to make do?
On the side of Sweetwater Mountain in Alabama, no money, no sink in which to wash my face, nobody to keep me company at night, only my ’63 Rambler piled with books and clothes, life seemed unadulterated and true. Meals came from the Christian ladies who were as happy giving as I was grateful to receive. The people I met made me laugh and cry, and on the mountain dogwoods bloomed pink and white near the cold, rocky stream.
It’s a privilege to have the chance to live by one’s wits and the good grace of the world. It may be one I enjoy again soon.