A Drop of Blood
Yesterday, I was walking in an older district of our town. The homes have well groomed yards and are often grandiose in scale and architectural detail. It is quite a sight-seeing experience, especially with trees already blooming for the spring. The wind was blowing. Suddenly, in the midst of all the beauty, something caught my eye. It was not a swing, a gate, a dog, or a beautiful bay window. Caught in the branches of a tree, was a red Mylar balloon. It was difficult not to just stop and stare at this unusual sight. It was not what my senses were expecting. I continued to desire to look at the image, and I longed to know more about it. How long had it been there? What kind of balloon was it. Who did it belong to? All of these questions reminded of another experience and thought that had been mulling around in my head for the last couple of days. We had a red visitor at our house on Saturda...