Patterns from a Rooftop: Chapter 6
This installment of Patterns from a Rooftop is a requiem for a journey. To be more exact, it is about the end of the beginning of multiple journeys. My lifelong companion considers it the best of this series. I tend to agree but think it finally exposes where the previous chapters have been heading all along.
I am exceedingly happy that I have taken the time to hunt through photographs and repair them and to piece together this trip from a more mature perspective – though I have allowed much of the fervor of the original notes to stand as recorded at the time. I could never have done this without the journal that I kept and sent home disguised as personal letters to family and friends back in Tennessee.
There is one more chapter in this story. It too has both its dark and humorous sides.
As you are well aware by now, my few loyal readers, expressions in these pages are of more comfort and benefit to me than to anyone else. A good friend argues, academically, that writing is not intended to be so. I beg to differ. If a journalist is not intrinsically rewarded on a continual basis, there is no writing or the writing is stone-cold dead. I am not compensated in this effort in any way but by my own discovery and evolution. Long live the evolution!