whatever is on my mind: questions of faith, problematic emotions, meditations on trees/sky/geese, intriguing ideas, books and stories and shows, conversations and quarrels, people and places
Friday, December 14, 2012
O. is whistling in the kitchen, some variation on a hymn. I hear him getting out a pot for spaghetti, moving things around. I am sitting by the front windows, trying to write my personal statement. The shooting in Connecticut is all over the internet, grief upon grief. Still the sun washes the sky in orange and pink, and the naked tree silhouettes retain their fragile beauty.