Seasonal Menu
Snow begins to fall as the Northwest wind whispers, Winter is coming. Elsewhere rain has given way to sun, and migrating birds join in song with the native chorus. I blink awake each morning needing to re-establish myself here, because I’m usually uncertain from where I’m just arriving. Then as my day goes on, my conversations grow deeper, and I feel my soul becoming lighter. But don’t be fooled. A laughing soul is dead serious. I guess what I want you to know is there’s something wrong when your age increases, but the menu of questions from which you order your life never changes. Don’t resist the seasons. Follow them.
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