Building Spring

A Hopeful Nighthawk

Vol. 85, January 30th, 2024 Published a day early online

A Note on Sunsets

Sunday afternoon peeked in the windows. A light rain fell on the metal roof of the wood shop. Pine boards and glue, nails and a hammer, tap tap tap. January is for building beehives.

Kids leave cookies out for Santa, an act of faith, inviting the big man by. I do the same for spring with this winter beekeeping tradition.

Tap tap tap. Another box done. Soon the bees will fill it with a low hum, steadily going about their business, visiting the flowers and raising the young. But it’s empty now. An act of faith. I hope I can catch a swarm in March. “Close enough” I mutter, checking it with a square. Add it to the stack.

Outside, the rain slacks, stops, and the sun slants through a dramatic winter sky. Time for a quick walk. I always forget to pay attention to the sunset. Down to the rushing creek, noisy with the jolt of rain. Up the hillside, stumbling once, gaining the pine grove, finding a deer track to the top field, to finally sit and look west. A late sunbeam finds a few close hills, and paints them plum.

The concord grape mountains guard the distance. The plum fades, traded to a cloudbank turned cotton candy.

Watching spellbound, I finally remember that the sun sets each day.

“I Never Said I’d BEE Reasonable...”

Josh stands next to a stack of freshly-

built beehives to add to the yard. Maybe he got a little carried away...

Happy Birthday, “Blue Suede Shoes”

Originally written by Carl Perkins, Elvis records this smash, today, 1956.

Book of the Week

Around the World in Eighty Days (Jules Verne)

The famed rollicking adventure tale was published in book form today, 1873, winning Verne worldwide acclaim.

Quote of the Week

“I would like to paint the way a bird sings.”

–Claude Monet

Skywatching

Have a good memory of a sunset, or a recent observation? Drop us a note, we’d love to hear. PO Box 783, Rustburg, VA 24588

Letters from Josh

(A weekly update from Josh Urban’s adventures on the farm and in the city. #171)

Appearing in the Altavista Journal: On Purpose

Howdy, folks, and welcome back to the show. I’m a big talker. Well, a professional one at least. Oh, don’t try to put a shine of public speaker on it. Some folks are born to hit a baseball, others are blessed with a knack for operating heavy equipment. I like to run my mouth. Along the way, I’m learning to listen.

There’s precious little of either in retirement homes, so they bring me in to set a conversation ablaze. Boy do we have fun. The term “senior citizen” is too stuffy for my style, so I call my mature friends “OGs ” (Original Gangsters).

We talk about the history of music, or deep space, or artificial intelligence, or geology, or anything fascinating. It starts as a “lecture”, but ends as a conversation. Sometimes, I’ll miss, and the patience and kindness of the audience is appreciated. There’s no lack of grace among these friends.

Chatting yesterday with the OGs, I threw a real rock of a thought in the mental pond. It was unplanned and off topic, but had been forming for years.

I made the point–diplomatically–that it’s easy to (mistakenly) feel useless and cast aside when you’re old. But why?

Heads started to nod, and a certain look crept into eyes. Direct hit. When people are understood, finally and suddenly, the expression is almost pained, like an unexpected punch. We started to explore.

“Work and purpose are usually tied together. When people age and retire, sometimes that’s lost. Work isn’t purpose, and purpose isn’t work, but it’s common to feel forgotten and overlooked when you age. Do you feel like that?”

Some did. One lady thought I meant there was nothing to offer after work. I corrected and clarified with a personal example, making the point that being a 38 year old man without a family sometimes feels useless, too, without real responsibility.

Meaning, responsibility, and purpose must exist on their own, available to anyone, anywhere, at any age. Career and family often bundle these themes, but there are many ways to live well. But how exactly, and if we’re feeling stuck, what will get us unstuck? These questions sometimes open more cans of worms than they close, but so be it. Two books about this are Stephen Levine’s Who Dies, and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl’s breathtaking masterpiece Man’s Search for Meaning.

I’d like to dig into this topic if you’d be okay with that. Maybe we can make our days a little bit better, a little more fulfilled. I’m not exactly sure where it will lead in future columns, so I invite you to share your thoughts. For starters, I consider age to bring wisdom, or at least a decent list of advice. I listen every chance I get. Most folks have something to offer. Do you have some experience to share, but feel like nobody listens? Drop me a line, I’d love to hear. I hate to see people hurting. Maybe there’s something we can do about it.

Catch you on the flip side,

–Josh