Onward from vast uncharted spaces,
Forward through timeless voids,
Into all of us surges and races
The measureless might of the wind....
In the steep silence of thin blue air
High on a lonely cliff-ledge,
Where the air has a clear, clean rarity,
I give to the wind.... my pledge:
"By the strength of my arm, by the sight of my eyes,
By the skill of my fingers, I swear
As long as life dwells in me, never will I
Follow any way but the sweeping way of the wind."
From On Desert Trails with Eve*rett Rues*s
And last night we saw a fabulous about Eve*rett Ru*ess. It was written by our friend Debra Three*dy and she also had the starring role. He disappeared into the canyons near Escalan*te, Utah in 1934, leaving behind his family, his mother, to grieve and wonder for her boy.
It made me spend all last night thinking about Joan Didi*on and her "Year of Magical Thinking" following the sudden death of her husband and the tragic illness of her daughter, Quint*anna Roo (which really is a great name). D*idion won a National Book award (small consolation) and much has been written about the book--about it's heartbreaking rendering of her grief. It's the most poignant reading experience I have ever had, but not because of the eloquent way it describes the grief she felt at the loss of her husband, but because of the tragic, hopeless hope she had for her daughter's recovery. Her desperate, lonely attempts to hold onto her daughter through what turned out to be an extended and fatal illness. What made it so sad, and what made the rendering of Everett R*uess' mother's grief so sad, was watching them hope and hope for their children, knowing all the while that the outcome is tragic.
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