I went out for lunch today with some guys from the office and as we walked by a park, an unused, grassy baseball diamond, I saw a woman and her black Lab standing there in the field. The woman appeared older, a little disheveled and she was standing in an awkward pose, right arm up but bent at an unnatural angle and her back was arched like she was about to throw something but somehow her body had gotten stuck in that pose. The dog beside her was also frozen, expectant, focused on her. This tableau held for a good five seconds and I saw in the woman's contorted profile much effort and uncertainty.

Then she jerked in a sideways motion and she did throw something and I saw a ball fly out of her hand and it hit the ground not more than ten feet away and I thought, now that's a terrible throw. The dog bounded after it and even though it was a short bound, its tongue was hanging out, its tail was doing helicopter wags. The dog picked up the ball and brought it back to its owner but instead of dropping it, the dog squeaked the thing.

The woman stood there for a moment. I was sure she was waiting for the dog to drop the ball, training it to release, but then she started reaching out for it. It looked like she was air grabbing at the ball like she was playing with the dog, teasing it a bit, like she was saying, I'm gonna getcha, I'm gonna getcha. The dog did not back away, though, as most would when playing this game.

The woman grabbed at the ball again, kept missing it and the dog would squeak the ball again but again she would miss it.

Strange game she was playing with her dog, I thought.

After a few more seconds, the dog squeaked the ball again and then dropped it on the grass. The woman stopped moving for a moment and then instead of just bending over to pick up the ball, she lowered herself to the ground until she was sitting down. Her dog happily danced around her. The woman felt around, searching for the ball. The ball was behind her. Didn't she know that? All she had to do was look behind her and she'd see it but she didn't turn around. She couldn't find the ball even though her hand would pass by it within inches.

Then I was close enough to her. Then I could see the tilt in the way she held her head. Then I could see she was blind.

Sometimes beauty descends upon us like a surprise, glittering sun shower, makes us gasp at its first touch. It comes out of nowhere while we're walking to lunch in the middle of a work day, on a busy, noisy, downtown street, while thinking about meetings and schedules and time allocations. Sometimes the sudden realization of what you are seeing, and reaching the meaning of what you are seeing, takes your breath away.

Now this part may just be my own wishful thinking but as I passed the woman and her dog, I noticed there were other people in the park watching the two of them as well. I wanted to believe they weren't just watching her, that they were looking out for her, ensuring her well-being and her dog's well-being. The blind woman playing fetch with her dog seemed such a fragile thing which could be so easily disrupted, a hundred things which could go wrong. It didn't appear to me like any of the other onlookers knew her but it seemed like they were all guardian angels.

The woman was still trying to find the ball on the grass and after a couple more near misses, her dog picked it up and squeaked it and dropped it again. This time the woman reached out along the grass and found the ball immediately. She stood up slowly, like someone trying to stand in a floating canoe, her dog very excited now.

The woman went into her throw pose, held it for a few seconds, readying herself, then threw the ball and from that excellent throw, the ball landed not more than ten feet away.

You know there are days when I think life is testing me. The big plan is found wanting and thrown out, too many secrets have spoiled the story, there is not enough time for love. But I am being preposterous, preposterous to think life would take a moment to single me out and I don't really believe that anyway. If life tests any of us, it tests all of us. It certainly doesn't test me any more than it tests a blind woman who wants to play fetch with her dog, throwing up a mountain of challenges in front of her just because she wants to partake in an activity most take for granted. I may suffer my minor woes but nothing here is new. Nothing here is exceptional. It's the same old story and what can any of us do but choose a path and walk to the end.

The woman must have faith her dog will return with the ball. She trusts her companion to be loyal, smart and patient, understanding and I suppose that is the most any of us can hope for.

Tonight the Harvest Moon shines down and through the clouds there is a faint light cast upon all doubtful seekers, all cynical believers.