October 5: Migrating Canada Geese, Happy Saint Marty's Day, HAL

Last year I saw three migrating Canada geese flying low over the frozen duck pond where I stood.  I heard a heart-stopping blast of speed before I saw them; I felt the flayed air slap at my face.  They thundered across the pond, and back, and back again:  I swear I have never seen such speed, such single-mindedness, such flailing of wings.  They froze the duck pond as they flew; they rang the air; they disappeared . . . 

Yes, Saint Marty's Day is upon us, after weeks of preparation--shopping, baking, decorating, cooking.  And, like all days of importance, it comes and goes quickly.  It is almost four o'clock in the afternoon, and the day seems to be flying away, like Dillard's geese.  A blast of speed.  Flailing of wings.  Ringing the air.  Then, it's over.  Gone for another year.

But, for now, it is still Saint Marty's Day.  I'm sitting in my office at school, listening to rain pounding the roof above me.  There's thunder, too.  A holiday rainstorm.  I've eaten a chocolate chip peanut butter pie and chocolate cake.  When I got to work this morning, the phone started ringing.  Friends calling to wish me "Happy Saint Marty's Day."  They sang to me, too.  Saint Marty's Day carols.

Tonight, I teach my introduction to film class.  We will be watching 2001:  A Space Odyssey, which is a terrific Saint Marty's Day flick, with the monkeys and HAL and the Star Child.  In fact, it is rumored that Stanley Kubrick edited out a scene where the astronauts Frank and Dave share some Saint Marty's Day tapioca and HAL becomes jealous.

I wish all of my disciples a Happy Saint Marty's Day.  Plenty of gifts and blessings.  At the end of the day, I plan to sit on my couch with a wine glass of Diet Mountain Dew and a bowl of tapioca pudding.  (Are you sensing a theme?  It's all about the tapioca.)  The lights of the tree will be glowing.  Outside, wind will be whipping through the branches of the maple tree.  Rain.

Saint Marty's Day is flying south for the winter.

Dave . . . can I have some tapioca?