The day starts one way and ends another. As it winds down we sit in the hot tub talking about important things like clouds and the garden and some other less important things too. I watch the daisies dance in the breeze. It’s getting dark by the time we come in the house and I’m startled
I’m awake in the middle of the night and my mind wants to race, as minds tend to do in those dark sleep-hungry hours. Once I wrestled, stealing glances at my bedside clock and worrying about how tired I would be at work in the morning. We don’t keep a clock in the bedroom anymore,
Daylight Saving Time is still beating me up, and Gerry is worn out from a hike so we decide to turn in early. By the time I arrange my pillows for optimum reading comfort, and move things around on my bedside table so everything is in easy and familiar reach, he’s already in bed reading.
When it comes to the business of how do you become a human being, how do you manage to believe, how do you have faith in a world that gives you 14,000 reasons every week not to believe, how do you survive . . . at that level we all have the same story, and
It’s dark now and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing. Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler's Wife We turn the clocks back and mayhem quietly ensues. The dog wants dinner in the early afternoon, I put up three non-traditional lighted birch trees because it’s going to be dark for months now,
“...and the evening was so beautiful, that it made a pain in my heart, as when you cannot tell wether you are happy or sad; and I thought that if I could have a wish, it would be that nothing would ever change, and we would stay that way forever.” Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace We
There is no doubt that solitude is a challenge and to maintain balance within it a precarious business. But I must not forget that, for me, being with people or even with one beloved person for any length of time without solitude is even worse. I lose my center. I feel dispersed, scattered, in pieces.