
Blowing In The Wind It was a windy day in a windy city a long time ago, about fifty years, I think, I forget exactly when. A sudden flurry made me the vortex and I was surrounded by sheets of paper caught up and blown from a doorway. When it had settled, I collected a few. They were letters applying for jobs dated about fifty years ago, I forget exactly when. All were hand written in the most beautiful cursive scripts. I could visualise the care with which nibs had been dipped in ink, the concentration in the touch of pen to paper. These were the stuff of unknown dreams. The names are long forgotten now but I wonder what became of them, those ghosts of a past who touched my life in a flurry of wind only to be blown away. https://sequoyahcherokeeriverjournal.wordpress.com/2021/10/30/sequoyah-cherokee-river-journal-9/4/