When I was a child I was told again and again. Reminded beyond forgetting. "You were born the winter of the great storm." So I was conscious of being a storm baby, I grew into a storm child and after many years I have become a storm crone.
Joyce Sutphen, "Alone let me listen closer to the day, let me hear the wind between the leaves."
Today I got my new eye glasses. It will take time to become accustomed to the ridge that slashes my vision. It's like looking through a plate of cracked ice. I must wait for it to thaw into seamless crystal.
Melanie's bouquet has become almost a companion. I have come to rely on its joyful presence.