It crusted the car roofs in the shade, twinkled in the low orange-yellow sunlight as it slipped meltingly to gleaming.
I woke with a sense of lightness not just from the uncurtained windows. An internal buoyancy of self-belief.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell; my blessing season this in thee!
Polonius was a buffoon and of course came to a perforated-lugged-guts end but the words endure.
The earth moves, the shadows lengthen and shorten, disappear; the frost forms and melts; the water evaporates and condenses, forms clouds which quell the shadows, seed the frost. All changes. All remains the same. All is. And all is not. That is all I know, and all I need to know.
So good to read this! As long as there are these feelings, from time to time, the rest is bearable. And there is quite a lot to be said for having time to notice the frost, which I did not see, or possibly did not ‘see’ as I rushed to work…
(o)
Ahhh!
Jean, I love the way that Whiskey River always has an apposite post. Today‘s is no exception π
L-TG π
Wonderful post, rr, and I second Jean’s words.