I wrote the previous post last night, july 3. Hadn’t posted it yet.

Today’s, july 4, our anniversary. To my surprise the track was inexplicably unlocked. As often, on days off or weekends, I meet Bobby, my longtime friend and insurance agent there. For many years, he’s run the steps, as I run the track.

There are other folks too. I look. As usual, no birds. Before I run Bob has to go back to his office around the corner to check on earthquake calls. Had the biggest since 1999 today. My cell internet wasn’t working. It was frozen on the last site from last night; the poem, “The Raven”. I’m too old to keep in mind lap numbers, so I always run first lap in lane 1, then lane 2. etc. As I turn to lane 2, I notice everyone has left. So lap 4 in lane 4, as the previous 2 days, I switch to “Versace on the Floor” hoping for some miracle. But no bird.

When I finally get to lane 8, I think I’ll give it a last anniversary try. I’m running/dancing to “Versace”, when just outside the fence, aside me in lane 8, swooping down out of nowhere, there it is. As before, just the one bird.

I stop. I take a picture. It sure looks like the same bird, but further away for me to be sure. Just then at the far end of the stadium, Bob returns. I run to him, quickly tell him the story (he knew Phyl) and that I’m not crazy. We walk to the fence. The raven’s not in the same place. I don’t see it, but he does, off to our right. Now he’s a witness. “Bob, how’s all this possible? I don’t understand” “Al, maybe you’re not supposed to understand. It’s just hope.”

All true. I did not exaggerate one friggin’ word of this post.

“By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”