On an ordinary street between the banal tedium of the shopping centre and the struggling miracle of the big park all I had to do was look up. A row of modest trees that only a week ago were crowned with brilliant yellow leaves are bare now. On the other side of the wide walkway that leads to my house a tree of another sort still blazes against the brilliant sky, decorated with beloved clouds. I only had to look up.
I only had to look up to escape the parking lot. The eternal sky, the vast sky is always there, always waiting to offer its distant, constant comfort.
My departed husband had a favorite phrase: look up! So true! Sometimes that’s all you have to do!
He got many things right.