Monday, March 22, 2010

Rims of light

An exuberant rainbow lit up the harbour this morning.

It was there one moment, gone the next.

It occurs to me that the ephemeral is also long lasting.

And look who's here! Sage. He found his way home. I am overjoyed. I almost can't believe he's back. What a hero.

I was up in the wee hours last night and was just about to switch my bedside light off when he came bounding noisily down the passage and onto my bed, announcing his triumphant return at the top of his voice. There was much rubbing and rolling, pastry making, bed exploring and non-stop purring. I fell asleep with him curled up on my chest (amidst much rumbling!); neither of us woke till well after 9.00AM. Sleep like this is completely unheard of for me. It'll be relief, I guess. Mine and his. And joy that he's safely home.

His vocabulary is different; there are new notes in his voice - and he won't stop talking. Apparently he has three days and nights of adventure to report on. I am ever so happy to listen.

Thank you, kind friends, for sharing my concern - and now my jubilation xx


  1. Oh, what a reunion! Wouldn't you love to actually be able to 'hear' his stories? Lovely news.

  2. Wonderful news! Sage does look wise and frisky. Tremendous rainbow.

  3. Ah, Claire! Such a handsome, intense-looking tabby. Intelligent too. Looks like he could open a safe. How fine that after the rain, life gives us rainbows. Blessings on you both.

  4. Kitty! Yes!

    (I especially loved "pastry making", much more poetic than just "kneading"!)

    And rainbows: I have a pact with my most dear friend (who is in the final days of breast cancer) that whenever there is a rainbow, we are required to call each other, in case one of us has missed it. For the rest of my life, whenever I see one, she'll be in my thoughts.

    Thank you for reminding me of this. One of my favorite things about blogging is the connections across time and distance that we forge, and the illuminations that result.

  5. How often I wish we could share language with animals, Mary. There'd be so much they could tell us, so much more we'd understand, not only about the little details of their lives and their way of seeing, but also about the big picture, Nature's Grand Design.

    I wonder sometimes if wisdom and instinct might be synonymous? Thanks for sharing my delight at having Sage home. x

  6. There's something wondrous about rainbows, isn't there, Mim? Nowhere else to we find such a fine combination of whisper, transparency, form, colour and light.

  7. Timoth - I think I underestimated Sage. He might look like a soft little furball but actually there's something of the tiger in him. My youngest son had this to say of his disappearance '.. perhaps he just needed some introspective time to evaluate his new living circumstances.' Perhaps, indeed.

    How fine that after rain, life gives us rainbows.


  8. Dear T. Clear, what a poignant and far-reaching pact you and your friend have made with each other... the rainbows you share will continue to act as

    bridges of light. It's so important, isn't it, to find ways to stay present to each other when ordinary systems and language fail us. I share your ache; this is a journey I, too, have walked with a very dear friend. How often we are called on to practice 'presence in absence' - or, the 'ministry of absence.' It can be comforting, though, to know that there are ways we can accompany loved ones that do not necessarily require physical, geographical proximity. Your rainbow conversation, for example...

    I found it helpful to plant a garden for Chrissie, something that lives on and that I can continue to nurture now that she is no longer with us. Love and strength to you as you walk this path, Claire xx

  9. He is so beautiful. Cats outside cats have a normal 5 mile radius in which they romp and explore. Sage looks like he found every inch to be exciting and he looks healthy and he well he is a cat and they do give such love. This made me happy.

  10. Thank you, Radish - dear old Sage (he's twelve) had never (at least as far as we knew) roamed beyond the parameters of his garden-of-origin but then a change of circumstances turned his known world upside down. On his first-ever away-from-home adventure, he took it on himself to cross the city sans anything but his built-in cat compass. It's a long and complicated story, involving a whole cast of characters and two other addresses. All I knew was that if he made it home this time, he would know for sure where home is. As it is, he did. And it's as though he's found some lost part of himself in the process and can finally nestle right on in. I'm so relieved as I would have been heartbroken had something untoward happened to him. He's hardly left my side this past week and is still talking, talking, talking!

    I'm glad you knew about his homecoming before you knew about my distress, too. Thanks ++ being happy for us! L, C x

  11. Sage looks adorable. I read somewhere in my internet reading today about how cats' purring is a healing sound - literally, with scientific proof. But I can't recall where I read it now in order to give you a link.

  12. Hi Kay - I can understand how a cat's purring could have a healing effect. They interpret us so well - as do dogs. How often we hear of a cat or dog resting its paw or its muzzle on a part of our body that's aching, or snuggling in when we feel heart-sore... Apparently we humans are calmer with animals in our lives than we are without them. I wonder if the opposite holds true? I like to think so.

    And, referring back to a comment you made some time back... I agree, Kay, coffee together sometime soon? L, C x