The sun tried hard today. Glowed with passion. But ultimately we proved that angle is still a bit too steep, the grip of a thoroughly competent and eager to please winter chill was just too strong.
But the light was wonderful. Worth every nip at my nose. Bedazzling off snow grown crusty with the thaw-refreeze cycles and giving me fresh eyes for the monuments in the cemetery.
A red-tailed hawk sat low enough in one of the trees I could have reached up and brushed her tell-tail feathers if she let me so near. The squirrels are out and about through the winter in the cemetery. I suspect she was searching for a snack. Later on my walks I saw the turkey cock who also prowls among the headstones.
I wrote today, and read, and warmed in a bath, and felt connected to friends afar; and soon I will take some embarrassingly rich sustenance with intellectual friends. And everything that infects the world, good and ill, will seem so far away. Our examinations of it academic, affected because we are confident we will remain unaffected. And that too is part of the mixture.
It is terrific that civilization grew so diverse when it is so fundamentally, reflexively intolerant of diversity. Our planet-sized village with its competing, divergent needs. It is a blessing to be alive, and to remember both sides of change, and to keep planting hope.