Ron Jons, a priori
On my art trip, in a place I’d never been before, I had an image flash in my mind of Ron Jons, a Florida surf shop of my youth.
Within less than a mile I rounded a curve, the forest opened up, and there was a billboard for Ron Jons — in the South Carolina low country!
Apparently they have a Ron Jons in Myrtle Beach now — my destination that night.
What does that mean?
Why that little glimpse into the almost nano near future?
For something that means little in my life?
There’s a song being sung, through my life, through yours . . . these little wisps of the mysterious . . . that might be forgotten minutes later if we’re not paying attention.
Why?
I don’t know.
But once again I felt the notes of some cosmic song being played through me . . . and me playing into it too.
I don’t know . . . but my God, how amazing, how surprising, this little thing.
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