Pulvis Et Umbra Sumus

The above Latin phrase comes from The Odes of Horace by the lyrical Roman Poet Quintus Horatius Flaccus. It loosely translates to “We are but dust and shadow.”

(I know, we all thought Proximus coined it in Gladiator – awesome movie!)

The phrase came to mind yesterday afternoon when I went looking for Claire and Honey and at first could not spot these large magical creatures hiding among the copse of trees I call The Ladies that sit by the front corner of Casa Claire by the opening end of the driveway.

They blended in with the afternoon’s shadows. Worked like the perpendicular lines on a Zebra. On closer examination via iPhone (above) they appeared as a couple of Shades, like Virgil and company in Dante’s Divine Comedy.

Smokey too, managed to camouflage herself in the same grey afternoon shadows among the statuary of the Jack the Spruce grotto.

On a cold winter day, Smokey does love the afternoon sun, and quickly retreated to her little cubby, where it strikes that spot on the winter porch with the certainty of the winter gap in Stonehenge.

It is much easier to spot the feral cats out front when it is overcast.

I understand photographers love to shoot on overcast days. The point is that I found that afternoon visual magical. I seized it. But I digress.

The “dust” concept that accompanies the “shadow” of Horace’s invocation is embedded in my BIC DNA, recalled with Ash Wednesday’s recent heralding of the Lenten season among the faithful with the thumb full of blessed silt crossed on foreheads along with the magic, now properly gender neutral, incantation – “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” 

Honestly, I miss the Latin Mass version in place when I was initiated into Altar service in the late middle of the last Century – Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris. Not because it was addressed more specifically to man, but because it was much easier for the child Tom to accept something I really couldn’t understand, despite the Latin mass drills my father tortured my brother Eddie and I with each Saturday morning before the liturgical reforms of Vatican II. Confiteor Deo omnipotenti . . . .

And yes, I deserved to be bounced from the Altar Boys. Mea culpa . . . .

My understanding and appreciation of the shadows and dust concept has evolved over these past six decades from the specifically religious to the generally spiritual.

No matter what religious road to Rome we follow – they all lead to the same place (Milliarium Aureum) – we are all governed by an immutable truth.

We are all just temporary energy forms on this particular plain so we must go for the gusto of life before we move on. Each day is a gift. We must not waste it on trifles.

Referring back to Horace’s Odes – “carpe diem quam minimum credula postero” which loosely translates to “pluck the day, trusting as little as possible in the next one.” 

It is always good to remember that.

Now I also don’t believe that this is the last stop on the journey. I’ve heard first hand from solid sources that there is many more adventures to be had across the veil.

To paraphrase Juba the Nubian from the end of Gladiator, we’ll all see each other again “but not yet, not yet.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5YdWgrfcGQ

So, while we are passing through, let’s make the most of the here and now.

Today’s gift is a hump day, so let’s get our skates on. The far side is always down hill.

Wave at Friday from its peak.

Claire and Honey and Blue have been fed, so I’m going to go find those kitties for a cuddle and then make my rounds. Then Carpe Diem.

And while we are out there seizing today, let us make it a great one.