Spotless

“There are in our existence spots of time,
That with distinct pre-eminence retain
A renovating virtue…”

William Wordsworth”The Prelude XII” (1805) [Lines 208-261]

When I was a kid, I thought Wordsworth had it all figured out: He saw the cool harmony between the natural world and the spiritual quest of man… it all fit together somehow. I remember my English teacher describing the idea of a “spot of time” as an epiphany. 

I’m not sure I ever truly figured out what a spot of time is, but it occurred to me this week that the 24hrs between November 30 and December 1 have “distinct eminence” for me, and not at all in the way the old Romantic suggested.

On November 30, 2018 I found myself trying to run, barefoot, down the stairwell from the 18th floor of the Sheraton Hotel in Anchorage. I had to stop after only a few floors because I was exhausted from getting knocked against the walls and trying to keep my balance in the near darkness while the fire alarm blared and the building’s girders moaned. I was carrying my shoes, luckily, because it was COLD outside.

On December 1, 2020 my buddy Steve rang the doorbell to alert us that the creek I had been monitoring most of the night in the back yard was nothing to worry about, at least compared to the torrent of water and mud running across the front yard and under the house in what we would name Mudageddon. (The same “atmospheric river” event killed two people in nearby Haines.) 

So, at the risk of welcoming December like a matador with a red handkerchief, I’m happy to report that I’m fine with missing this year’s Welcome-to-December anti-epiphany, in exchange for smooth-ski and happy-dog tracks, across the lake.