That day, the sky was full of sunshine but rain fell like diamonds making the world sparkle. A monkey's wedding is what her father called it, Violet remembers.
Chest out, head held high, he led her from one flower bed to the next. "I planted those and those. I'm working there. Watch your step."
Going to work with him was a rare treat.
Her chestnut hair woven into braids, pleated skirt, penny loafers, she walked cautiously with her head down.
"I'm not an educated man. It wasn't mine to have. Working class that's my station. But you, my girl, things will be different for you." He grabbed her hand, held her in place and they looked up at Magdalene College's bell tower. "Construction of this tower began in 1492. It was completed in 1509. Many, many years ago. Long before you or I were a mere whisper in the wind. It will continue to exist long after your body has turned to dust. Of this, you can be very sure."
He made her understand, using more than mere words, that the tower stood for knowledge. Ancient, overpowering, righteous, sacred--her adult mind scrambled to describe what she as a child had barely grasped.
Now, sixty years later, Professor Violet Green crossed the ocean to once again--perhaps for the last time--stand on that spot and look up.
Next post: Sunday, September 16 (at approximately 5 PM PST)
Book review: The Shoe on the Roof by Will Ferguson
I use "book review" rather loosely. It's more a reflection after reading.
As writers, we get all wrapped up in our own worlds. It's
necessary, in the height of creating, to spend a lot of time alone.
I've spent an entire summer floating on a cloud of what-ifs. It's been amazing, but also draining.
To take a break from your writing it makes sense to involve yourself in community--how ever you define it, how ever you find it.
This is what I've done. And like plugging in my laptop at the end of a writing day, I fill my battery slowly recharging.
May you have a balanced life.