I looked out the front window a couple days ago
to see my faithful old steed covered with
jacaranda flowers.
How very familiar that felt.
Two years ago the blossoms fell on April 10th.
That was the day when, standing in the very same spot,
I experienced the palpable vacuum of my friend John's passing
out of this world.
The flowers fell, again this year, on the second anniversary
of John's departure. This simple coincidence seemed
more significant to me after editing the image above.
Immediately above the green jacaranda branch,
in the upper-right corner,
you can find visual traces of a bird, in flight, heading out of the frame.
Remembering that John was one-half American Indian,
some people might say any trace of a bird
was an appearance by John's totem.
Others would say they never believed he was a shaman.
I feel no need to say more.
~ ~ ~
