Whisper of the Wind

It was another week on the Isle of Long, and it had begun with unexpected pleasure.

Randomly scanning the Internet, I found out by chance that my long time morning companion, John Gambling, had returned to the New York airways.  I was delighted to renew my radio relationship with his soothing voice and congenial conversation.  While no longer a breakfast companion, he is now able to join me either at lunch or on one of my midmorning automobile jaunts.  A happy unexpected beginning to the week.

As Mr. Gambling returned, however, another NY radio veteran departed abruptly.  Discussing Joan Hamburg's sudden departure from local media, my friend said, "She's no longer relevant."  That led me to reply, "What does that say about us, who were her listeners?"  And, of course, we both knew.  The answer was obvious.

And as I spoke, I once again heard the soft whisper of the wind that has appeared periodically and more often in latter months.  It seems to murmur in cadence with the breeze, "How much longer can you stay?  How much longer on this Isle of Long?"  If I shake my head quickly, it fades away, and I can soon forget the lingering doubt it inflicts.  And thus I did on Monday.

However, on Tuesday, a homeless spider found refuge in my right thumb, a digit I had not adequately respected until it no longer obeyed my commands.  Simplistic tasks, too numerous to enumerate, now became exquisite torture.

Then the whisper became more of a staccato, as I dealt with the pain, and coping with becoming immediately proficient with my left hand.

Thanks to the miracles of modern medicine, and the unfailing kindness of our longtime physician, aka friend and Good Samaritan, who saw me after office hours, the now treasured thumb began an immediate recovery.

Yet as this week ends of this Isle of Long, the murmur of the wind seems to caress me with its constant questioning.

"How long, how long?  Is the moment approaching?"

And like the thumb I once took for granted, I realized how truly I love the nest once shared with my beloved on this Isle of Long.