Somewhere in this great white expanse a heart stopped beating. I suspect it was a brave strong heart. We know he died in the cold, after his fall. In a split second his life went from triumphant, standing near the rim of a volcano he had climbed more than 70 times, to disaster when the edge gave way.
It's often like that - our lives can turn on a dime, on the head of a needle. Or we try something on the edge, risky, and it doesn't work out.
But every time a heart stops - whether for good or temporarily, it matters.
Today my heart leapt, a small hope, a tiny reminder of love. Embracing it, I was moved to small tears. What a sweet reminder that even when hope seems lost it can always be reborn... even when buried in the deep, breaktaking cold expanse.
Of course there are the Cardinals and the Rams, and an amazing children/art museum called City Museum, another favorite place for us (even the teens love it - where else can you crawl into sculptures several stories tall, or roll down flights of a rack system designed for the shoe company that originally occupied the building?)
The city is easy to get around, friendly if a bit provincial, and progressive. There are oddly more natives in St. Louis than in any other city I've ever seen. Natives may leave but they always seem to migrate home to raise families.
I love Atlanta, and it will always be home, but I sure miss St. Louis.
I'm a person. With lots of ideas :) Curious about how the unseen affects the seen. How we express ourselves, about how we don't. How we resist, how we fight, how we chill. My fav question is "why?", next is "how?" when doesn't matter :D