Burnt Norton – IV
Time and the bell have buried the day,
the black cloud carries the sun away.
Will the sunflower turn to us, will the clematis
Stray down, bend to us; tendril and spray
Clutch and cling?
Fingers of yew be curled
Down on us? After the kingfisher’s wing
Has answered light to light, and is silent, the light is still
At the still point of the turning world.
–T.S. Eliot, from The Four Quartets
These photos and post are in response to this week’s theme for the 52 Photos Project. You can see a gallery of everyone’s photos for this week’s theme here. To see a list of all my blog posts for this project, go here.
While thinking about this theme all week, I realized that I don’t have a good luck charm. I have objects that I love and that hold beauty and meaning for me. I have precious things given to me by people I love and have been loved by. I have mementos that remind me of travels and faraway places.
But I don’t know about luck.
Do I believe in luck? I don’t know that I do. Unless by luck we mean the millions of mutations and evolutions, the decisions and hesitations, the actions, the coincidences, the escapes by and quick thinking of my ancestors that somehow landed me here and now.
I feel pinballed to this point in time. I could have landed anywhere. Or nowhere. A thought that makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle and gives me a dizzy, groundless feeling.
Well yes, I’m lucky as all get out. And my life is charmed.
This photo and post are in response to this week’s theme for the 52 Photos Project. You can see a gallery of everyone’s photos for this week’s theme here. To see a list of all my blog posts for this project, go here.