the true harvest of my daily life
is somewhat as intangible and indescribable
as the tints of morning or evening.
it is a little stardust caught,
a segment of the rainbow which i have clutched.
~henry david thoreau
from the book be
was an adventure.
and the rail sled.
would not stay straight because it was so icy.
one does not enjoy.
the sound of rain in winter.
it is not the earthy smell.
as in the spring.
it is cold.
but it was what the day brought.
and people got out and around yesterday.
we are constantly asked.
by the universe.
and we do.
life is here and it is now
i for one.
don't want to let it pass me by.
welcome to coffee hour.
welcome to this Sunday morning.