When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry
The bulbs I planted in the fall are peeking out.
Three years later... I posted the above on December 31, 2009. How different the surface details are, yet once again the crocuses are pushing their noses up, and Wendell Berry still says it best. Happy New Year to all of you.