Edges

When we first traveled to Park City Utah for a retreat it was fall. There was only snow on the tops of the mountains. But as I stood at the bottom of the slope it seemed like the mountain went straight up. It looked like if you would stand there you would just fall over, no fall off. I was amazed.
When we traveled in Kotigiri visiting family in Southern India the slopes of the tea plantations seemed almost as sheer. Really. But planted with rows and rows x100 of tea bushes. They were trimmed low and we were told they were very old. The top tiny little tea leaves were the ones that were picked. Picked by women who stood bent over at the waist, a bag the size of their backs on their backs, with the back of their legs supported some by the row below them.
We had seen several groups of women, in their colorful clothing, in the fields but this time as we drove by I waved. One looked up, then another, and they all stood and smiled and waved. They waved, hard, until we were out of sight.
I carry their smiles with me. Somehow my waving had given them pleasure. But not as much as the treasure of their faces in my memory.
Don't fall you are precious to me.

God abides
Bobbie Giltz McGarey
@2007