Stewart Dawson
Staring Through the Diamond to the Ground
Staring through the diamond to the ground. It’s got to be like that sometimes. There was a day back there in June that I had to write about. But first I will tell you about staring through the diamond to the ground. It is something most everybody does sometimes like going to the store for a can of soup.
It’s easy to do. Find a ledge or a seat to sit on. Hold your drink by clasping both your hands around your glass and rest your elbows on your knees, legs apart. Look down and you’ll find the diamond. You can stare through it to the ground if you want, but let’s look at the diamond first. If you are thinking about things very carefully, there is a lot to find in this diamond.
At the top of the diamond, you might find diversion. Or despair. Or you might find comfort. Or maybe it is just something to simply quench your thirst. At the bottom of the diamond, you might find knots or butterflies. Or you might find a tangible likeness of yourself. Or you might find a blank look staring back at you. Maybe you have just met someone who makes the bottom of the diamond glow like rays from that fickle Moon.
At the right of the diamond, you might find a sore spot in your elbow that you never had before, or you might find a freckle on your arm. Or maybe a love letter that you haven’t written yet. (What are you waiting for?) On the left of the diamond, you might find a hole drilled through the Sun.
Or you might not find any of these things. But if you think at all, you will find something. It’s up to you. After you have thought about the diamond for a while, look past it to the ground. You might find infinity. All of us have something to find in this diamond. Humans have been looking through it as long as there have been humans. And we have found many things.
Anyway, I found myself thinking about this diamond at the end of an incredible day. It was a Sunday back there in June. The year doesn’t really matter, but I told you I would write about it and so I will. The day started off normal enough but it had a good promise attached to it. An early cup of coffee, a shower, a comb, a splash of flavor and the type of anticipation that just makes you feel good inside. I pretty much knew it would be a fine day, and it was.
Sunlight greeted me at the White Gull Inn for breakfast, which is always a good thing. As breakfast progressed, the sunlight became brighter and brighter. Soon the light was acting directly on my central nervous system. It was like opium. It dulled my pain and made me feel really good. After breakfast, the light followed me to a bluff high overlooking the Green Bay waters. And then the day exploded into colors and patterns and notions. The morning expanded and whirled into galaxies and I flew away. Holding the light in my arms, I soared out over the water like a dizzy drunken gull just taking the wind for a ride. At this point, the day was big, open and expansive. The light talked to me and told me its story.
It was a simple and young story, but it was a story that traveled many miles to delight my eyes and the rest of my senses. Sunlight doesn’t speak in such a way that the ears and tongue can comprehend. This light spoke directly to my soul. This time on the bluff flew so quickly away and I had to leave the place and the light and move on to other things. But before I did other things, I found the diamond. The light came back for a moment and sparkled all through the diamond. For that wonderful little moment, I felt very good.
The day passed into the places where all days go, but in the evening, there was a small party and the shimmering of the day was replaced by music played on the back porch by some mighty fine musicians. My life has been blessed and filled with music and I often find myself in the company of people whose life is music. I closed my eyes and my ears were the winners then. After the music, I took my beer down to the cabin where I was staying and found the diamond again. The diamond was shining with contentment and peaceful satisfaction. And the floor beyond was solid. And then I slept.