All the Sweeter Because of the Cold

I am not familiar with the work of Craig Arnold. I am not familiar with the University of Wyoming or Japanese volcanoes.

But when I first saw the story of Arnold’s disappearance on a week or so ago, something struck me. It was the picture that accompanied the story. His eyes are looking upward, his mouth frozen in movement, his hand near his face, caught in gesticulation. Gesticulative speakers are passionate, and passionate people are rare. From this one picture, from that one pose, I became intensely worried about him.

I’ve checked CNN every day since, looking for news. Nothing. So I searched today, and I found this story, stating he is presumed dead. The story contains a link to his blog, and coming upon his writing, so public, so present, I feel like I should be still. These are the words of a man who, very likely, will not be coming back.

Terrible things happen a million times a day, yes, so I find it hard to justify the sadness I feel for this unfamiliar, middle-aged, haiku poet.

But I feel sad all the same.

Deep in the forest of China pine

also a road of my own I took –

a road to pass the misty rain

a road to take the mountain wind.

craig arnold, 2009

One Comment Add yours

  1. Sary B says:

    A few years ago there was a family with young children that got stuck in a snowstorm in the pacific northwest in their car. After a few days the father left the car to go and find help. The mom and kids were rescued, the father was not. I am fuzzy on the details now, but while this was happening it really impacted me. I kept thinking about that decision they made for him to leave and what those days were like inside the car. Of course I never knew these people, and I also thought it strange at the time how much I cared and agonized with/for the family. Strange indeed

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