The sun has finally arrived
in Blue Rocks. And with the
sun, two borrowed kayaks
found their way to our home.
Blue Rocks Kayak Routes |
we slip our kayaks into the sea; the rest is bliss.
slipping under the bridge in Stonehurst |
Making Waves |
a friend from Vermont, who recently
died after a short struggle with cancer.
Ann,
You are a part of my Vermont,
of snow shoeing through sun kissed woods,
x-country skiing back in the winter meadow,
walking the trails through hemlock laden woods,
canoeing on the Green River Reservoir,
talking chickens and bees and beavers and apple trees,
munching from picnic baskets by the pond,
and sharing your love of our world through many meals.
You truly stepped through the door full of curiosity.
Thank you for sharing
this wild and wonderful life.
When Death Comes
When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; when death comes like the measle-pox; when death comes like an iceberg between the shoulder blades, I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness? And therefore I look upon everything as a brotherhood and a sisterhood, and I look upon time as no more than an idea, and I consider eternity as another possibility, and I think of each life as a flower, as common as a field daisy, and as singular, and each name a comfortable music in the mouth, tending, as all music does, toward silence, and each body a lion of courage, and something precious to the earth. When it's over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom; taking the world into my arms. When it's over, I don't want to wonder if I have made my life something particular, and real. I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument. I don't want to end up simply having visited this world. |