The extraordinary turmoil and roller-coaster emotions of the past two months have given many Americans, and Texans, a different perspective from which to view Thanksgiving Day. We remember recently lost friends (Drew MacWilliam). The grass stretching out below my window here at Winedale has turned the exact color of russet that she loved to wear. We have guests coming for the Feast--Hale's daughter and grandson, and his peripatetic son. It will be very meaningful for Hale, I think. The last friends we had here for a meal were Drew and her son, Walker, freshly in from New York. Her children orchestrated many visits to Houston to see her during the 14 months she knowingly battled pancreatic cancer. He, however, was the one who drove her to see our much altered house.
The other afternoon I walked out to the pool to test the chill. An insect whizzed by and I instinctively ducked. It was a dragonfly, a big one, making organized swoops across the water and adjacent flower bed. I stood very still and his loops became tighter as he approached me. Perhaps he was curious. At times, damselflies have lighted on my float in the pool, but I've never been this close to a moving dragonfly. He was beautiful, as most of them are, a pretty blue and gray, but flying too fast for me to catch much detail. An appreciation of the varied beauty of these creatures is one of my recent discoveries.
More practically, Richard has been working on enclosing the shed for storage. He makes steady progress. We have engaged a yard crew who begin work Tuesday. My son and his wife are well. We, at Winedale, are alive and ambulatory and not yet destitute.
For all these blessings, I am truly grateful.