notes for the human heart
If it weren't for Maurice's clockwork A.M. call-to-nature, we both may have slept our last sleep, so to speak. I woke this morning to slowly being poisoned by gas. Walking into my kitchen, immediately I smelled it, and I said out loud, "Is that gas?" while thinking, simultaneously, "no, no, it can't be." My stove… Continue reading open your windows
On the street adjacent to mine are two northern mockingbirds. I assume they're an item, but they haven't officially let me in on their business. Each morning, when I walk my dog, one of them flies from their nest and perches itself on the highest branch of a young linden tree. "Look at me," it… Continue reading we are where the birds are
The title of this blog comes from a poem written by Jane Kenyon. I can't recall when I first encountered the poem, but the first stanza often pulls me back to it - There’s just no accounting for happiness, or the way it turns up like a prodigal who comes back to the dust at… Continue reading Happiness in the time of Coronavirus
No Accounting for Happiness 