
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?