Sunday morning, hair messy, perhaps a bit distraught, a bit wild. Cows and rolling farms, expansive greenness, refreshing country air, unexpected visit of a light rain… A rustic restaurant and outdoor deck, Reuben rye sandwich, sunny side up eggs, some talking of smart phone and revolution, burst of sunlight on the wooden table… Down to a canyon, waterfalls, one after another, all the way down, a camper and his simple, wonderful water filter, a fit old couple, faster steps, suddenly a storm and pouring rain, muddy trails, soaking wet from head to toe, big meadows and a camp store, bear t-shirt and bear pajama pants. Gorgeous sunset colors in the rear window.
Reread Camus’s The Plague and realized I had completely forgotten the main story lines, not to say details, of a great book. Every bit the Noble Laureate wrote is still true today. The book of course addresses rather large themes of the human condition; one motif is the challenge of keeping hope alive under many uncertainties so not to succumb to panic or dangerous pleasures. To keep memories and imaginations alive is to keep life from falling into an abstraction or bleak sterility.