A LAST LETTER TO VERLYN KLINKENBORG

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/12/26/opinion/farewell.html?ref=verlynklinkenborg&_r=0


Dear Mr. Klinkenborg,

I was sorry to learn of your last column ever. I haven't checked in as often as I usually do. I will miss seeing you in the New York Times. I love your writing. I thought I would, for the last time, answer a question from your last column. You ask about peoples' farms. I have loved reading about yours.

I don't have a farm. I have a forest. A slice of a larger forest, backing up to a set of cement circles; suburban homes set up against a county park. Sitting where I am now, I look out at a blue and white streaked morning sky through a tangle of tree branches; Oaks, Maples and Ash trees. The forest I can see is set on the side of a ravine. The larger branches are closer to the house as the thinner, higher branches are set farther back creating a thin web of brown, blue and white.

We have a lot of woodpeckers in our backyard. I didn't know there were so many different kinds until we moved here 14 years ago. We also have squirrels and just visiting; Foxes, Wild Turkeys, Whitetail Deer and huge Tortoises on a yearly pilgrimage. I have written about most of them on this blog.

Endings are hard for me. I try to do as the best writer about endings ever, William Bridges, who wrote the book actually called Transitions, suggests. Remind myself that a good ending, as your columns suggests, clears the way for a good beginning. And remind myself that although I won't be reading your columns, I can take comfort from knowing your farm and my forest go on.

Right now, along a Minnesota riverbank, workers are digging up artifacts from ancient people who camped along the river 3,000 to 6,000 years ago. They camped there, the Star Tribune newspaper informed me this morning, because the area was rich with game, fish, freshwater. I imagine camping along the riverbank was also well, fun.

Your column gave me a glimpse into your way of life. I enjoyed learning about you, your daily habits, your animals and your land. We need this, I think, we humans. We need glimpses into each others' lives. I think we must need it because we continue to be fascinated enough to read about each others lives or literally, dig up each others'  lives. I think of my writing as a contribution to that process. I will miss reading your writing in the New York Times. I hope you will continue to publish about your life and farm.
Take care