"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." -- James 1:17
"This particular evening, if it is remembered for nothing else, will be remembered in that place for its strange sunset. It looked like the end of the world. All the heaven seemed covered with a quite vivid and palpable plumage,;you could only say that the sky was full of feathers, and of feathers that almost brushed the face. Across the great part of the dome they were grey, with the strangest tints of violet and mauve and an unnatural pink or pale green; but towards the west the whole grew past description, transparent and passionate, and the last red-hot plumes of it covered up the sun like something too good to be seen." -- G.K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday
The fantastic sunset that frames the opening scene of Chesterton's incredible novel is unusual in New Mexico though not unknown. Our famously clear skies and high winds lend themselves more to sudden changes of scene, such as a moderately colorful sunset followed by a clear unobstructed view of the Milky Way. A stroll in the soft moon-dark in Spring can provide a view of the heavens like few other places on earth. Our mornings at sunrise are also crisp and clear and shining, or at least that's what they tell me. Like all sensible rodents I am usually still in hibernation then. New Mexico is so well known for its climate and scenery ( and lttle regarded for anything else) that it is easy to take for granted. But last Thursday I had new reason to appreciate it all. This was the third follow up appointment over nearly a year for a laser coagulation prociedure to staple down a retinal tear in my left eye. This was in fact the second near-miss with my vision. Two years ago I had surgery to remove a hemangioma ( blood vessel tumor) from behind the right eye, where for years it had been wrapping around the optic nerve causing strange shadows and distortions in dim light, and causing ghost images of bright lights at night. That surgery was very frightening and had a several-week recovery period; the laser surgery was over in ten minutes. It is astonishing what they can do with lasers these days. It simply involved staring into a very bright light while the doctor instructed me to look in various directions, putting me mentally in a cockpit with the beleagured spitfire pilots of the 1969 movie Battle of Britain -- "Beware of the Hun in the sun," (a few seconds lost trying to compenmste for the dazzling glare can hide the Messerschmitt that is coming in to kill you), "break right and climb," and of course, "you can teach MON-keys to fly better than THAT!" The pain went away within an hour and a half though it was hard to think about other things for the next month, until the first follow-up. I was accompanied on that appointment by a dear friend who instantly saw the advantages of traveling for two hours through some of New Mexico's least interesting scenery in exchange for a fast food lunch and the companionship of a rodent. We live in a sort of oasis, with a trackless desert to the south ( the direction traveled) and a swiftly ascending mountainous area to the north. The southern scenery does have a certain austere elegance in certain lights, but I had difficulty appreciating either it or the five tacos I managed to ratfully force down. There followed a world-without-end time in the waiting room trying not to overhear the details of other patients problems, then at least my own turn and the welcome news that everything seems fine and should stay that way as long as I can avoid boxing, riding skateboards off buildings or falling down stairs onto my head (difficult adjustments, to be sure). I wrote the first version of this entry on another blog server at the time ( last April) and after the current positive checkup have decided to start this mirror site on blogger. Both versions of rodent millenium have a foreign prisoner emphasis, involving particularly the case of innocent Australian Schapelle Corby whose life also changed in an instant through circumstances beyond her control. Sudden medical questions can have ( in a much smaller way) a similar effect - giving one a sense of the preciousness of every day, every small pleasure, and of how totally our lives are in God's hands.
"This particular evening, if it is remembered for nothing else, will be remembered in that place for its strange sunset. It looked like the end of the world. All the heaven seemed covered with a quite vivid and palpable plumage,;you could only say that the sky was full of feathers, and of feathers that almost brushed the face. Across the great part of the dome they were grey, with the strangest tints of violet and mauve and an unnatural pink or pale green; but towards the west the whole grew past description, transparent and passionate, and the last red-hot plumes of it covered up the sun like something too good to be seen." -- G.K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday
The fantastic sunset that frames the opening scene of Chesterton's incredible novel is unusual in New Mexico though not unknown. Our famously clear skies and high winds lend themselves more to sudden changes of scene, such as a moderately colorful sunset followed by a clear unobstructed view of the Milky Way. A stroll in the soft moon-dark in Spring can provide a view of the heavens like few other places on earth. Our mornings at sunrise are also crisp and clear and shining, or at least that's what they tell me. Like all sensible rodents I am usually still in hibernation then. New Mexico is so well known for its climate and scenery ( and lttle regarded for anything else) that it is easy to take for granted. But last Thursday I had new reason to appreciate it all. This was the third follow up appointment over nearly a year for a laser coagulation prociedure to staple down a retinal tear in my left eye. This was in fact the second near-miss with my vision. Two years ago I had surgery to remove a hemangioma ( blood vessel tumor) from behind the right eye, where for years it had been wrapping around the optic nerve causing strange shadows and distortions in dim light, and causing ghost images of bright lights at night. That surgery was very frightening and had a several-week recovery period; the laser surgery was over in ten minutes. It is astonishing what they can do with lasers these days. It simply involved staring into a very bright light while the doctor instructed me to look in various directions, putting me mentally in a cockpit with the beleagured spitfire pilots of the 1969 movie Battle of Britain -- "Beware of the Hun in the sun," (a few seconds lost trying to compenmste for the dazzling glare can hide the Messerschmitt that is coming in to kill you), "break right and climb," and of course, "you can teach MON-keys to fly better than THAT!" The pain went away within an hour and a half though it was hard to think about other things for the next month, until the first follow-up. I was accompanied on that appointment by a dear friend who instantly saw the advantages of traveling for two hours through some of New Mexico's least interesting scenery in exchange for a fast food lunch and the companionship of a rodent. We live in a sort of oasis, with a trackless desert to the south ( the direction traveled) and a swiftly ascending mountainous area to the north. The southern scenery does have a certain austere elegance in certain lights, but I had difficulty appreciating either it or the five tacos I managed to ratfully force down. There followed a world-without-end time in the waiting room trying not to overhear the details of other patients problems, then at least my own turn and the welcome news that everything seems fine and should stay that way as long as I can avoid boxing, riding skateboards off buildings or falling down stairs onto my head (difficult adjustments, to be sure). I wrote the first version of this entry on another blog server at the time ( last April) and after the current positive checkup have decided to start this mirror site on blogger. Both versions of rodent millenium have a foreign prisoner emphasis, involving particularly the case of innocent Australian Schapelle Corby whose life also changed in an instant through circumstances beyond her control. Sudden medical questions can have ( in a much smaller way) a similar effect - giving one a sense of the preciousness of every day, every small pleasure, and of how totally our lives are in God's hands.
