At twilight, an at-the-end-of-July blooming of the exquisite David Austin rose in my garden called simply "Heritage"...The perfect shape and glowing petals were a fine earthly counterpoint to the waxing moon last evening - the lady poured her light out over the garden, and the rose lifted her own face in greeting, gifting the realm of night with her own light and fragrance and silent song.
All the core elements of good counterpoint were there - a flowing lyrical relationship between two or more entities independent in their contour and rhythm, but perfectly and seamlessly interwoven in lineament and harmony.
Moon and night were exquisite in themselves, and together they formed a greater wholeness - as Cassie, Himself and I did for so many years and Spencer, Himself and I are doing now. Ever companions, we compliment other perfectly and last night we were out in the garden together, breathing gently in and out as the moon moved across the sky.
Last evening, I sensed Cassie leaning contentedly against me as she did in life - she loved sunrises and summer moons and roses, and she would not miss such an evening with us for anything. There we were again, Himself and I, Cassie on our left and Spencer on our right, all of us paw in paw. Now we are four...