The sun has fallen behind a low horizontal band of cirrus. Its light blooms out through the icy clouds into a huge iridescent disk. Up above, small – tufts – of – clouds – are – spaced in an irregular band,slowly drifting south.
I found the folklore of homeless children
strangely uplifting (thanks to rebecca’s pocket
). A triumph of the human spirit – the power of storytelling – the creation of culture – under conditions that would seem to defy any attempt at meaning. And theirs is a culture that needs no broadcasting, no advertising, no promotion – just human contact. What stories would we tell if our media stopped telling them to us? Is that what blogs are?
I got up early today, mostly because I was hungry. I fasted yesterday, just drinking water. I want to try to do it once a month this year. Why? Because it clears my head and rests my insides. Because it practices self-discipline. And because it gives me, in some small way, an experience of hunger.
Today, the day after, I appreciate food much more… and I’m newly aware of how much of my day revolves around it: deciding what to eat, getting it, making it, eating it and cleaning up three times a day, plus snacks, plus another bite or two for good measure. I realize how much I love
food – good
food. Tonight my wife is making a mushroom risotto with wild morel mushrooms. Mmmmm…
At 5 o’clock on a Saturday morning
the pines do whisper
softly, remembering years of snow,
passing on stories
of great trees – a great forest
that once was.