Skip to main content

Timing is Everything~





I was in Rockport recently, a picturesque North Shore coastal fishing town. It’s got a small artsy village where tourists roam the narrow street that leads to Bearskin Neck and a view of the ocean.

Bruce and I stopped to watch a cat hunting a grasshopper in a raised flowerbed, that  bordered the roadway. The cat was quick. She darted and leaped, following the erratic hopping of the insect.

When the cat looked right, the grasshopper leaped left,  perching triumphantly on a zinnia. I thought briefly of scooping it into my hand and moving it farther away from the cat, who was still searching.

Then the grasshopper hopped onto my foot, but before I could walk away--taking it with me out of harm’s way--it made a dynamic leap into the street ... where an oblivious tourist immediately stepped on it.

The crunch--like biting into a potato chip—stayed in my ears. The unexpected unfairness of it still lingers.

The man continued walking; the cat went on hunting. And I was left to think that surely there was a moral to the story. Or at least a lesson.

But all my lessons seem too grim. This was only a tiny slice of a grasshopper's life, and why should I expand it to mean more than just unfortunate timing? A little good luck followed by bad. 

Timing is everything.

---




Comments

Bob Sanchez said…
There's never a good time to die, and a tourist's foot was probably one of a hundred ways for it to go. At least it was quick.
Pauline said…
Ouch. My mother used to call that being in the right place at the wrong time.

Popular posts from this blog

Cancer is the asshole~

Today was the first time in a long, long time that I’ve called Bruce an asshole—and the first time since his cancer diagnosis. How can you call some one with cancer an asshole? After all, cancer patients don’t feel good--they’re dealing with a deadly disease, there are all sorts of worries, frustrations, and side effects and changes to their bodies, quality of life issues... and all the other little quirky symptoms that I only find out about about when Bruce tells his nurse. I’m pretty patient and understanding by nature, and all the more so now when he vents the inevitable “ cancer anger ” a little (or a lot). Today he got impatient and snippy, frustrated that we couldn’t merge our iCalendars—he hates when technology goes awry. Who doesn't? For him, it's one more thing out of his control. He started to tell me what I’d done incorrectly in the attempt to merge, and kept cutting me off when I tried to show him what I did...which, by the way, was corre...

For Alice~ She's home!!!!!!!

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson Sometimes it's all about knowing that loved ones and friends stand behind you, knowing that support is there on the down days, the worry days, the days when you feel off-center, out of sync, bedraggled emotionally, and in pain, but knowing all the while that you're not alone. You're not alone... Alice is an online friend--she lives in Hawaii-- who belongs to the writer's workshop that I do. We've only "met" online, but those who have online friendships know that they can be just as strong as those in-person relationships. Alice was hit by a car while walking, and is in the rehab phase of things. She's working to regain mobility after a broken pelvis, a broken arm, and a broken nose. It's scary to realize how, in the blink of an eye, life can lurch and our plans for a time are displaced by survival and healing. We...

A Continuum: the sands of time...

Time is like a handful of sand, the tighter you grasp it, the faster it runs through your fingers. Anonymous My 20’s: That runner’s high! I love it! I feel like my feet are six inches above the pavement and I could just keep running and running forever. I stretch my runs longer and longer for pure pleasure until I just have to turn back--reluctantly. I’m empowered and kind of in awe of my energy. My 30s: My pregnancy decade. Three kids. I jog behind a stroller with the firstborn; walk with a toddler while pushing a stroller with the second born; walk slowly with my third, stopping so he can drop pebbles down the drain or pat the doggie.   I go on occasional walks or slow jogs on weekends or days when my husband is home with all three kids. But I often choose to nap. My 40s: My oldest babysits for thirty minutes so I can go out for a walk. I call it my “by-by walk.” “Mommy’s going for a by-by walk,” I say to soothe my youngest, who c...