**

These crosses are not like that. They are simple. Sticks of wood, screwed together and stuck in the ground. The paint that once covered them is cracked and peeling. God knows how long they have been there but they seem to have been untouched for a long time. I find that a little sad. Obviously if there are three crosses, there were three deaths. I assume they were in the same accident. Someone took the time to build, paint and plant them and now they sit, surrounded by weeds, neglected. So what happened to cause the person that built them to stop coming? Was it an old man who has since died? Was the person responsible for the upkeep so distraught they committed suicide or went insane? Or did life just ... move on? The survivors putting one foot in front of the other and continuing their journey?
I wonder these things every time I pass them. I prefer to think that the grief just ... faded. Days turned into months turned into years and every trip around the sun got a little more bearable. The family buried their dead and got on with living. Hey, it happens. People do it every day. Today I noticed among the weeds, wild flowers growing, insects going about their business, life teeming in the shadow of death. I saw lots of little things I never saw from the road. So what's the fucking point Tommy? I can hear you asking yourself that.



Well ... I don't know. I'm not the fucking hermit sitting on the mountain pontificating or dispensing wisdom on the meaning of life. Maybe it's a simple lesson. Life goes on. Just that. Life's pains, no matter if they make you feel your heart has been ripped out and shredded, pass. They fade like a lover's rose until one day you notice they don't hurt so much and realize you've moved on.
Maybe the point is that life is short. You never know when the log truck is gonna crest the hill and snuff you out like a candle in the window on a windy night. Have you done everything you wanted to do? The way you wanted to do it? Or have you gotten sidetracked by unimportant shit and left your hopes and dreams unattended on a hill, slowly getting swallowed by the weeds? It's never to late to pick them up, dust them off and start chasing them again. You'll be much happier, I think, when your time comes to exit this mortal coil knowing you chased the dragon and gave it the fight of your life. I know I will be. At least I hope to have fought the good fight.
And finally, maybe the point is that sometimes you have to get off the busy highway and get into the weeds to see the details that make up the big picture. I never noticed all the new life surrounding the crosses on the hill until I parked and walked up to them with eyes open ... really looking around. Sometimes I think we get so caught up with the big picture that we don't see the tiny details. We're speeding down the highway of life, striving to get to the destination at the end of the day and miss all the great stuff that's just a few feet off the highway.
Or maybe I'm full of shit and needed something to post about. More pics on Flickr if you're interested. Have a good weekend everybody. I'm gonna find some weeds to crawl around in. I think I saw an old dream hiding in there somewhere.