Wednesday, June 21, 2017

“Wherever I am, the world comes after me.
It offers me its busyness. It does not believe
that I do not want it. Now I understand
why the old poets of China went so far and high
into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.”

~ Mary Oliver, The Old Poets of China

Eyes sparkling and an aged hand stroking Maya’s silky coat.

Shopping for supper at my garden–kale, radishes, and salad turnips.

An impromptu trip down the hill for ice cream after supper.

Wind whipping my hair as I stand watering my carrots.

The sweetness of plucking the first pea pod from the vine; carefully opening it and, with wonder, finding small peas inside; popping one into my mouth–the taste of summer.

Coffee and conversations.

The first rays of the morning sun on the dill that stands tall and proud on my kitchen counter.

A few recent simple happy moments. No, no, I have no desire for the world’s busyness that would have me miss out on these blessings.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
1 comment
  1. I like Mary Oliver and your urge to be still. I visualize calmer, quieter days ahead and catch quiet moments in the here and now.

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