It is Justice.

I just could not resist this.

The wall had started to crumble and fall so as I passed I just could not resist making one of my little piles of stones. It seems to fit with the two peaks of East and West Lomond in the background. Unlike them, my little structure is not going to stand for any length. I am not sure how long it will last at all. The weather and time will make sure of that if it is not demolished by another walker who takes a dislike to it. It lasted long enough to give me the pleasure of putting it there and painting it.

So no matter what happens to it my painting will give it some history and become part of my memories. Thanks to nature for providing me with this moment of pleasure.

This made me think of other walls and other stories.

There is the story of the man who appeared before the judge in court. The man had a very clever lawyer who got him his freedom not because he had proven his innocence but on a technicality of law. The judge before declaring him free to go said to him that he had little doubt about the guilt of the man but he had to let him go. He was sure though that at some point the man would have to face justice unless he changed his ways. 

Justice did indeed come sooner than even the judge had thought. A week later the man was in the process of burgling a home. He heard noises of the owners returning so he fled out the back door and over a nine-foot-high wall. As he dropped to the ground he discovered he had dropped into a prison.

Justice, in this case, was almost a kind of karma. 

Another true tale of a kind of justice comes from the life of the wealthy Andrew Carnegie.

A rather radical man once came to see him and soon was railing against the injustice of Carnegie having so much money. In his view, wealth was meant to be divided equally. It was wrong that so much wealth should lie in the hands of one person.

Carnegie asked his secretary for an assessment of everything he owned and at the same time looked up the figures on world population. He did a little arithmetic on a pad and then said to his secretary. 

"Give this gentleman l6 cents. That's his share of my wealth."

The same Andrew Carnegie had been born a very poor lad in my hometown of Dunfermline as a boy used to look through the fence at the large estate owned by one family. How he longed to have been able to play in there. He purchased that very property and donated it to the people of Dunfermline who still enjoy it to this day. he also had the public Library built for the furtherance of the education of the people. 

As a student with a small grant I each year was awarded a bursary towards the cost of my books from the Carnegie Fund set up for this purpose. Seems that Andrew was very aware of justice and his background. My thanks go to his memory. 

I rejoice in the oft-shown to my truth that what goes around comes around. I in thanks continue to this day to try and make sure that what I own brings joy not only to myself but where possible to others. Every little thought action or gift we give goes twards the justice of all.

Have a marvellous day.