Z(ed)

At the prompting of my Canadian brother and mentor I must proceed. His comment on Saturday’s blog was a preemptive strike and it appears to have worked. For Zed it is. I’m learning Canadian slowly and someday hope to speak it fluently, eh?

With the influence put forth from the north and the sequential necessity to end this non-sense, I write today of Zebra stripes. Upon leaving our front door last night to allow our dog to make his mark in the world, the Swansmith and I looked up and were struck by bright patterns in the western sky. They looked like northern lights, but we were facing the wrong direction. (“Didn’t feel like north!” Sorry for that bad inside joke.) So we walked on. We headed northeast and gazed northward toward Canada. No geese, but plenty of light, all around us and directly overhead. They looked like undulating zebra stripes, mostly white but with a strong greenish tint. In my past experiences with northern lights, they’ve always been tied to the horizon, shooting upward to the sky. But this time I could stare straight up and see the free show. They were waving at us like the stripes of the flag. Of course we had to summon the kids. And they came. And were impressed. Tough to do with teen-agers.

Zee End. Or iz that Zed end.