"When everything else has gone from my brain ... what will be left, I believe, is topology: the dreaming memory of land as it lay this way and that."
Annie Dillard
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Sunday, December 18, 2016
South Wind
From yesterday's ice storm to this morning's fog. Air filled with the promise of robins. A warm breeze, a freshet, a stowaway on the south wind.
Inside, the tree has gained gravitas. Its low branches have settled and the ornaments are on.
Outside, the trees are bare and bending. There is so much still they have to tell us.