Over morning coffee The Old Lady remembered a photo she’d seen on Facebook recently, of sandhill cranes wintering in a north Florida field.
Perhaps I should try to find them, she thought to herself.
An hour later she was hurrying down a country highway to a yoga class and as she topped a hill THERE THEY WERE: sandhill cranes, literally HUNDREDS of them.
The Old Lady’s photos do not do justice to the magnificent sight, and even the best photo would not adequately show them dancing in stately courtship. They threw back their crimson-capped heads to sing their strange, high call, spreading their gray wings and lifting their long legs in elegant display.
Sometimes that which you seek finds you.
The Old Lady has a confession: she is an addict, a lifelong addict. She is addicted to books.
Whenever she is coming to the end of whatever book she is reading, if she does not have another book ready at hand, she suffers serious anxiety: “Omigosh! I will finish this book soon and I have not yet found my next book! Whatever will I do!”
A light sweat breaks out. Her hands shake. A terrible sense of insecurity washes over her!
Fortunately there are public resources available to address this addiction: public libraries.
Today as The Old Lady walked out of a library clutching not one, but two emergency backup books, a great sense of relief washed over her.
All was well with her world.
And by the way, the book she was finishing that caused this latest panic attack is The Golden Son, by Shilpi Somaya Gowda. An excellent read.