We’d all seen it.
February 27, 2013
As I grow older, it feels as if there is no personal God, no great power watching over us. Like a lifeguard. There is just an empty beach. At the same time I have this faith. Not in God but in mystery. Both wonder and terror.
I was perhaps 9 or 10 years old in the back of my parents’ Pontiac. Driving down this two lane highway into this lush green valley. From the other direction there was a truck, a big transport. Roaring. A dog sat at the end of a farmer’s lane, near the house. You could tell that he heard the van. He started to run down the lane. To chase the truck, I presume. But he did not chase the truck. Instead he ran straight into its tires. And exploded into a bomb of blood.
No one in the car said anything. We’d all seen it. The image of that dog exploding has never left me. The incident was my metaphor for human kind. It was so random. And yet it made perfect sense. For that dog and that truck to meet.