Saturday, December 18, 2004
where there is light
someone kind said to me, at the start of this very un-festive uncertainty: "when one
door closes, another one opens."
i mention this, speeding along the highway towards alkmaar, to an old friend - er, acquaintance - and he raises a dubious eyebrow. he is a realistic soul, and he is not, has never been, given to platitudes.
my smile is indulgent, but i know this much: if i hadn't consistently jammed my foot between one particular door and the slam of inevitability, i wouldn't be here, now, comfortable in this company, catching up, comparing presents and futures, and watching the lights of north-holland slide brightly by.