Point of View: The Best Day
“This is the day the Lord hath made / rejoice and be glad in it,” I said to Mary as we and the puppy, whose first outing to Louse Point it was, took turns remarking on the glorious, cloud-filled sky, the light-green marsh grass, the gentle shore, the dark water, and the darker treeline beyond.
The light was clear, making everything stand out so singularly. It was the best day of the summer.
I made as if to frame it with my hand, remarking that one couldn’t do it justice, that it was best to let it remain in our minds’ eyes.
“Ralph Carpentier could do it justice,” she said.
We reminded ourselves to go see his paintings at the Marine Museum.
Jimmy Reutershan, Ev Rattray, Stuart Vorpahl, Ralph Carpentier, Rusty Drumm . . . all of them of this place, and who, while gone, remain in our minds’ eyes.
We agreed, yet again, how lucky we were. With surroundings like this, how could you not feel blessed? With surroundings like this, how could you cling to dark thoughts? How could you not let them glide by on the breeze?
And so, not all that far from the intemperate traffic and the strolling legions of leisure, you find yourself exclaiming in your backyard: Look at this! A miniature version of a bathtub toy, as Jane was to say later, bright orange, several inches long, with big spots on its back and a relatively large head with big black dots — eyes, we presumed.
Mary put a photo of this comical being on Facebook, and, almost instantaneously, one of her friends identified it as the caterpillar form of a spicebush swallowtail butterfly, which mostly are found, they say, on the Florida peninsula.
How lucky we were. And in our backyard too, not all that far from the madding traffic and the strolling legions of leisure. I could only compare the sighting to the love-making slugs on our chimney of yesteryear.
And not long after that I saw a hummingbird — just for a moment, but enough to know it was so. I ran to tell Mary the news.
The slugs taught us about love, our cat how to die, and all the beings with whom we share this place are teaching us how to live.