Apr 18, 2021

The body of my life.

Yesterday morning I heard two bird calls. That’s all, just two. All of the body of my life was measured in those few sad sounds. 


“Getting old feels like a type of tired that you can’t sleep off.” I tell that to a large Valley Oak that is maybe two centuries old. It ignores me, of course, as it should. It is as I expected. 

All of this on the Winter Solstice, when day and night are of equal length. 

“Balance is a fine thing, is it not?” I say that to the Oak as well. 


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