Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed? Can the writer isolate and vivify all in experience that most deeply engages our intellects and our hearts? Why are we reading, if not in hope that the writer will magnify and dramatize our days, will illuminate and inspire us with wisdom, courage and the hope of meaningfulness, and press upon our minds the deepest mysteries, so we may feel again their majesty and power? What do we ever know that is higher than that power which, from time to time, seizes our lives, and which reveals us startlingly to ourselves as creatures set down here bewildered? Why does death so catch us by surprise, and why love? We still and always want waking.
~Annie Dillard from “Write Till You Drop’
Month: July 2013
Summer Silence
This Blog post got out of sequence so I’m reposting it here, at the end of our trip.
“Summer makes a silence after spring.”
– Vita Sackville-West
As we bid farewell to England, Scotland and Ireland today, leaving mild temperatures in the 50’s to go to atypical temperatures in the 90’s at home, summer will be hitting us with a surreptitious sledge hammer when we disembark in Seattle. Hay will be ready to pick up in the fields and we will return to work within hours of getting off the plane. But even with the responsibilities we reassume, we will know the joy of a house filled with our (now adult) children and friends from all over the world.
Life is rich with memories tightly woven into the tapestry of our everyday routine. I will look back on this special time with Dan with fond remembrance for new friends discovered, amazing places experienced, all the while blessed by returning home together to everyone we hold so…
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Changeless Changing


A changeless changing, transforming into
An ethereal storming, freshening, continuous…
~Jean Garrigue “The Flux of Autumn”
If you were aware of how precious today is,
you could hardly live through it.
Unless you are aware of how precious it is,
you can hardly be said to be living at all.
~Frederick Buechner




