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| A care package from Robin Rule. |
Serendipity 2.0. Just yesterday I was wishing I had some CBD oil salve for my lower back, as I pulled some deep lumbar muscles. Nothing seems to be working. But as we hunker down to avoid the latest Delta variant, driving to a dispensary was beyond my ability to cope. In the mail today a package arrived from the north, a homemade salve from Shenandoah’s Daughter, still molten from the heat of the mail box. I spread the unctuous golden oils on my back and began to feel relief almost immediately. CBD oil, calendula, arnica, poppy, comfrey, and yarrow—a mountain meadow of wildflowers for my spine. I was moved to tears, even beyond tears, as there was more, much more—a packet of Yorkshire Gold tea, a tea towel from Connemara, and a homemade card with a robin collaged on it. Not things themselves. But something larger than even love. Ah, Robin, I am grateful, doubly blessed by a namesake bird, that harbinger of regrowth and renewal, a bright flame of love that flies across the distance of time. She who feeds the homeless, arrives on the wings of hope—she is the vox populi, the voice of the disenfranchised, banishing despair. She who pays beauty forward wherever she goes. I am both honored, and blessed to have known her across the years. Go raibh maith agat, mo anam chara, mo spideóg bhroinndearg, Roibín. I have nothing to reciprocate, except these small husks words. A transcendental feather wafts in the breeze.
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