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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