Carol A. Hand
One moment, I’m reliving memories of the past, driving through a snowstorm on an October night.
After eating, I go to the small gas station next door to ask directions to the address Ward Wright gave me for tonight’s interview.
By the time I leave my motel, it’s dark, windy, and snowy. As I try to find the roadway beneath the blowing snow, I realize how anxious I’m feeling about going to a stranger’s house alone. I drive along the blustery west-shore road that hugs the lake, trying to find the address Ward gave me through the foggy car windows. Finally, I notice a house on a hill with a wall of lighted windows on the west side of the road. I turn into the steep driveway hoping I’ve arrived at the right place.
As I approach the house through swirling snow, buffeted myself by the strong winds, I see a tall, lean man through the walls of glass. He motions to me, pointing to a door on the back porch. I enter and walk through the porch into the brightly lit kitchen. I introduce myself to the self-assured handsome man in his mid-50’s who greets me. He has the aristocratic demeanor of someone accustomed to being in charge. I’m surprised when he asks me where I would like to sit. I wonder if this is a test to find out something about the strange woman who has shown up on his doorstep.
“We should sit wherever you feel most comfortable,” I reply….
The next moment, I look up from my computer and gaze out the living room window at the sunny April landscape. I take a few sips of cold coffee and peek out the kitchen window as I gently part the curtain. I’m grateful to see that the little mother bird is back in her nest to feed her babies.

I disturbed her yesterday when I opened the curtain and tried to take her picture, so I won’t try again. You’ll have to trust my words. A bird family really does live in this creative repurposed nest abandoned by the wasps that called it home last summer.

Satisfied, I return to the past.
The wind grows stronger as we speak, propelling snow against the windows. The lights begin to flicker and I realize that I’m very cold – more from fatigue than from the room temperature. It seems wise to end our meeting. It’s late, after 9 p.m., and the weather is deteriorating. I thank Ward and we say our goodbyes.
As I drive through the blowing snow, gripping the steering wheel tightly, I think about the interview. It was intense and I often felt uncomfortable….
***
WOW! I saw it too!
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Thank you for your encouraging comments, CS. 🙂
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I don’t know how you do comments. And shares. How do you keep the troll out?
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I use the WP feature to moderate all comments and don’t “accept” trollish comments or respond in any way. Ultimately, they lose interest…
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WOW!! This is the most powerful and amazing thing! Can you possibly write more of this? Forgetting social work for a moment, this shows why you chose it in the first place, and this is what makes some social workers wonderful.
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful, encouraging comments, Cindy. ❤
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Great! And I’m happy,dear Carol, that you have so amusing wingy neighbourgs! 🙂
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Thank you for your lovely comments, Maria. ❤
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🙂
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somehow i’m now
sitting where i’m
most comfortable, Carol 🙂
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A wonderful time and place to be, David. 🙂
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Nature amazes!
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Yes, Trace, nature seems to be infinitely diverse and creative. 🙂
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Oh my goodness Carol! This drew me in and I was immersed into the scene. So wonderful how you do that and my what interesting creatures and so smart to repurpose a well built nesting space!
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Thank you for your lovely comments, Tori. I send my best wishes to you and your wonderful family. ❤
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Thank you so very much, Carol!!
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Love the juxtaposition of past and present, Carol! As writers, we do a lot of time travel 🙂 When our journey into the past brings new light into the present, we can move forward into the future with more assuredness. We can even find a new home in a place once abandoned by its former tenants 🙂
By the way, I look forward to reading your book when its published.
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Thank you for sharing your wise insights, Rosaliene, and for your kind and lovely comments. (If my book is ever published, I promise to send you a copy.) ❤
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More, please. 🙂
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Thank you for your very kind words, Joan. I’m deeply grateful. ❤
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Sounds to be a brave interviewer. I’d stick with the birdies and their “repurposed” dwelling!
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Thank you for your thoughtful comments, Buster. 🙂
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Thank you for your creative comments, Super Duque. 🙂
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Time travel can be awesome. Birds are definitely awesome. 😀
Thank you.
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful comments, A Shift in Consciousness. I apologize for the delayed reply. I’ve been dealing with serious computer issues recently that kept me off-line and made editing, teaching the online portion of a class, and blogging challenging. 🙂
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I understand. I deal with internet issues on a regular basis, some unexplained. 🙂
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That was very brave of you! I do similar time travels at times and wonder how I was able to do what I did. I hope the mother bird and the babies are doing well. Warm greetings.
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Dear Helen, thank you for your always thoughtful, lovely comments. I have to admit that I stopped pulling back the curtain to peak because I didn’t want to disturb the bird family. I hope they survive cats and crows and other life challenges. But I’m grateful that they had a creative, safe home in the early spring. 🙂
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