"For us, our house is not insentient matter—it has a heart, and a soul, and eyes to see us with; and approvals, and solicitudes, and deep sympathies; it is of us, and we are in its confidence, and live in its grace and in the peace of its benediction. We never come home from an absence that its face does not light up and speak out its eloquent welcome—and we can not enter it unmoved."
—Mark Twain, 1896
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Monday, August 9, 2010


Forget about it.
 Forget about all of it.
 Forget about clearing the yard and stacking the brush.
Forget about burning the folds of cut-down branches and piled-up leaves.
Forget about the worry and the crumbling stone walls.
Forget about the intruders that find a way in no matter how high the barricade.
Forget about all the sacrifices.
Forget about the uncertainties.

Focus.
Rest and breathe deep the calmness.
Forget about it.
Forget about all of it.
King Winter will sweep-up to greet you soon enough.
Smell the crispness in the air?
The impending heady scent of wood smoke in the freshness ahead?
Focus.

Calm yourself.
 Hear the wind rustle the trees and skip over the waves.
Forget everything in the hushed twilight.
King Winter will arrive soon enough.


Painting by NC Wyeth
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