It’s nice here tonight. That awful wind has stopped. We had gusts and blowing snow on the mountain beginning Christmas Day and it really whipped up yesterday. Kickstart said a few shingles blew off the front porch roof, but I told him to stay away from any part of the porch … roof, floor or steps. It’s all rotten, I think. Looking at a joist under the porch deck the other day stained green with mold reminded me of what I call the “surprise picnic.” Not a picnic with food. Well … I found a picnic table in the woods and … I guess I’ll have to tell the story.
When I was writing of women a few posts back, I failed to mention one in particular. I’m not supposed to even think of her, because the consensus of my fellow Brothers and the professional staff at the hospital was that Sally was a figment of my (somewhat) thwarted imagination. The episode took place while Sparky was the abbot here.
Sparky was a good old guy. He had so many age spots he looked like a Dalmatian puppy, hence the nickname. I think he secretly believed my story, although I understood that as my abbot he could not agree an apparition had taken place, not without concurrence from higher-ups. "Irishmen don't see apparitions," said Sparky. Yes, I know, I was thinking the same thing but didn't say it.
“You know, Jesse,” he said, “we’re all a little worried about you. You sometimes forget where you are!”
I have never forgotten where I am. Sometimes when I’m on my way somewhere I forget where I’m going. Doesn’t everyone do that?
And it wasn't as if I'd seen the Blessed Mother. Far from it! Sally was more earthy than I would expect from the mother of Jesus, although I think we do a disservice to Mary by assuming she was totally bland.
My vision in the woods seemed to take years off my attitude. Afterward I felt young again, but also greatly confused. Maybe the two go together.
I have walked the trails through the woods up here for years. It’s true I have a lousy sense of direction and don’t always know where I am. The very same glens and copses in the woods can look different from week to week. And the exact same stand of hemlocks is often unrecognizable later in the day when the sun’s angle has changed or if you walk into it from a different direction. In short, the forest can be tricky. But this isn’t the Great North Woods and there is always a way out, despite the number of people who get lost up here each year and try to call 911 on their cell phones. When I am lost I walk straight downhill and always come to a road and recognize where I am. Or I follow a creek down the mountainside to civilization.
In any event, I was not surprised to find myself one afternoon a couple of years ago at a Y in the trail with not the slightest idea which leg I should take. I realized I didn’t know where I was, so I chose the left path and started down it. After a few hundred yards I came to a small clearing I’d not seen before and that surprised me. A small picnic table had been somehow transported up the mountain and placed in the middle of the clearing. Inspecting it more closely, I saw hatchet marks. It had been hand hewn and assembled right here in the woods.
I raised my foot and pushed down on the seat board to test its strength, then sat down with my back to the table's surface. I heard a noise behind me and turned to see a woman seated opposite me on the other side of the table, although strangely there was no longer a table. I will swear to her appearance for as long as I live. It happened just like that! I suppose I could have dozed while she walked up and sat down, but no woman I’ve ever met would quietly sneak up on a man asleep at a picnic table in the woods and sit down across from him. Of course, Sally was unlike any woman I had ever met.
“I am Sally,” she said.
“I’m Brother Jesse from the monastery,” I replied. Surprisingly, I didn't connect the Sally in front of me with the Angel Sally from my imagination.
Suddenly I began to talk. Words flowed from me as I told Sally everything about myself, from my childhood through my teen years and then on to my vocation. All the stuff about Africa … much of it I had sworn I’d never speak of … my guilt, the plane accident, my time away from the Brothers, my sins and transgressions and my fears and … I didn’t leave much out.
I did all the talking. She offered nothing about herself and gave me only a slight smile. Sally had a lustrous ivory complexion. She was a natural beauty with deep, surprisingly blue eyes. A fine figure showed through her dress, which did nothing to rein in the movements of her body beneath the thin cotton. She was one of the most stunning women I have ever seen. Her presence was very intense. I found myself uncomfortable and I sat back, as one might lean away from a hot stove. I never stopped talking, but I couldn’t keep my eyes from roaming over her features. I felt embarrassed and hoped I wasn’t leering at her. In time my nervous monologue stumbled to a stop. I looked down at my hands and then back up at her face. Her expression of polite interest hadn’t changed.
With a smile on my face, I said, “But I suppose every guy you meet tells you the details of his entire life in the first … fifteen minutes.” I looked at my watch and realized it had been two hours.
“I was there for all of it, David,” she said.
Astounded, I asked, “How can you know my name?”
“Because …” she said, and then hesitated.
“Because why?” I asked.
She didn’t answer.
It was then I made the connection between this woman and my angel. She half stood, leaned over the table and brought her face very close to mine. Pursing her lips, she gently blew a sweet breath across my brow and the light in the forest seemed to brighten a little. I instinctively leaned forward to kiss her, but stopped myself. For a moment I was lost in her eyes, recognizing something that even now I cannot put my finger on. Then she kissed me on the lips quickly. She did not kiss like the Blessed Mother. Nor were her lips hot and forceful. She kissed lightly, but with the energy of a thousand stars burning somewhere off stage in the universe. Sally left the table and walked away. I got up also. I was in shock. I did not want her to leave, but I was speechless. She walked up the path a bit and turned to look at me. The low sun was behind her and showed through her thin dress, revealing her legs. I don’t know how long I stood gazing at this so obviously female apparition. And then she was gone. In my eyes there was nothing but sunlight and tears.
Jackson Browne, Bonnie Rait - Kisses Sweeter Than Wine
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