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Elizabeth Dutton


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Ending the day

Was a rough, long week. And it’s only Thursday.

I got home from teaching a class at about 9 tonight. There is rain on the way, so it’s not as cold as it’s been at night. Sharp air means sharp views of the stars — that’s the only benefit of evening temperatures that flirt with freezing.

I normally don’t teach on Thursday nights, but I am covering a course for a woman who took time off to be with her husband as he fights for his life. It’s one of those times when I wish there was something I could actually do aside from telling her I am keeping them in my thoughts or sending good energy.  I always want to fix things, find a solution. My family is kind to me in that they let me fix the problems, solve the riddles. This is no riddle, though. It’s just life.

I got home and pulled into the back driveway, rolled through the tunnel of trees to get to my cottage. Halfway down the drive a fat rabbit, a furry bubble the color of untreated wood, stared wide-eyed into my headlights then hopped off into the bushes. I parked my car and walked back out to the street to fetch the emptied garbage can. The woods smelled like unlit incense. I wanted to just stand out there all night. Just me and the rabbits.

Sometimes I feel, for just a brief moment, like I am on the brink of something incredible. Like I am about to round some sort of corner into unfathomable amazingness. Then the moment passes. I want that moment all the time. I want unlit incense woods and rabbits and thrilling possibility to be my constant.

Nothing, though, is constant. Everything changes and everything ends. But with endings come beginnings. So I end this day and see what the next brings.

It’s bound to be unfathomable amazingness one of these days.

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