Walking this afternoon, I’m reminded of Sylvia Plath’s line, The winter landscape hangs in balance now… What a long balance it might be. Nonetheless…
A pileated woodpecker swoops down from a branch above my head and disappeared into the woods. I take this as an auspicious sign. Ides of March. More snow moving in. Nonetheless….
Things take the time they take. Don’t
— Mary Oliver
worry.
How many roads did Saint Augustine follow
before he became Saint Augustine?
Stony Soil Vermont 
Deceptively simple, Brett Ann, as your pieces so often are, and full of food for thought.