Whew, It’s Finally Spring!



No, it doesn’t look anything like this yet, but it will! It will!

Happy Spring everyone!

This is just a quick post, but I realized that after the historically difficult winter we’ve had in the Boston area, I cannot let the first day of Spring pass without marking it.

Spring is not exactly evident around here. I just looked at my weather app, and this morning it was 20 degrees during my run (it’s a whopping 29 or so now). So no, Spring has not exactly sprung. Or at least not in a way that would be obvious to say, people in warmer climes than mine.

Say, like, the people on Lost. In addition to a ton of reading this insane winter, there might have been some binge-watching of Lost going on. Watching the sweaty and barely dressed Jack, Kate, Sawyer and company run around the sparkling, lush, and drop-dead gorgeous Oahu while in real life I wore about 20 layers even inside and outside white skies overlooked snowbanks so high they obscured any view at all was just a tad bit surreal. Escapism and juxtaposition at its finest.

In comparison to Hawaii or plenty of the rest of the country, Spring is not exactly evident. It reminds me of how when I lived in Southern California, people from other parts of the country would say there’s no Winter. There is, it’s just subtle.

The first day of Boston Spring 2015 has that same subtlety: Unseeable to outsiders, unmissable to those who live there. For starters, the six feet-plus piles of snow are gone; it’s down to six inches or less in most spots. You can even see sidewalks now! That means going for a walk or run outside no longer feels like taking your life in your hands because it’s impossible to see around corners. The hardened dirty snow covering most of the yards yields to a narrow strip of grass along the edges (yellow, but still!). Suddenly, the light has a different quality, thinner somehow and more golden. The air, cold as it is, carries the hint of wet earth and the tulips and daffodils to come. Was I layered up during my run? Yes. Yes, I was. But, still…now, with all of those aforementioned signs of Spring, promise is in the air.

Spring is my absolute favorite season. I love flowers, the very particular scent of new beginnings, and—this year especially—the more temperate weather. Somehow everything seems a little easier, and I can’t help but feel a huge amount of gratitude.

So here’s to Spring! I hope your first day of this season is fabulous and that your weekend is as well.


Filed under Inspiration

20 Inspirational Quotes to Fire You Up for Running—or Life

Running along the snowy Charles River in Cambridge_2014-01-18_by Bill Damon

Has winter chilled your enthusiasm? These wise words from athletes, authors, thinkers, and leaders just might help you rekindle your commitment to your goals.

On motivation

‘Never forget: This very moment, we can change our lives. There never was a moment, and never will be, when we are without the power to alter our destiny. This second, we can turn the tables on Resistance.” Steven Pressfield

“It’s very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not
to beat the other runners. Eventually you learn that the competition is
against the little voice inside you that wants you to quit.” –George Sheehan

“Flatter me, and I may not believe you.  Criticize me, and I may not like you.  Ignore me, and I may not forgive you.  Encourage me, and I will not forget you.” William Arthur Ward

“Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning a lion wakes up. It knows it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death. It doesn’t matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle; when the sun comes up, you’d better be running.” Unknown

“Feel the fear and do it anyway.” Susan Jeffers

On setbacks

“Pain is necessary, suffering is optional.” –Haruki Murakami

“The biggest mistake an athlete can make is to be afraid of making one.” L. Ron Hubbard

“So you’re taking a few blows. That’s the price for being in the arena and not on the sidelines. Stop complaining and be grateful.” Steven Pressfield

“Most great people have attained their greatest success just one step beyond their greatest failure.” –Napoleon Hill

“Most of all, the ultra distance leaves you alone with your thoughts to an excruciating extent. Whatever song you have in your head had better be a good one. Whatever story you are telling yourself had better be a story about going on. There is no room for negativity. The reason most people quit has nothing to do with their body.” –Scott Jurek

“As I look back on my life, I realize that every time I thought I was being rejected from something good, I was actually being re-directed to something better.” –Steve Maraboli

On inspiration

“The woods are lovely dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.” Robert Frost

“Running! If there’s any activity happier, more exhilarating, more nourishing to the imagination, I can’t think what it might be.” Joyce Carol Oates

“The reward of running—of anything—lies within us. We focus on something external to motivate us, but we need to remember that it’s process of reaching for that prize, not the prize itself, that can bring us peace and joy.” Scott Jurek

“The most beautiful motion is that which accomplishes the greatest results with the least amount of effort.” Plato

“Happiness is not a state to arrive at, but a manner of traveling.” Margaret Lee Runbeck

“Don’t be pushed by your problems. Be led by your dreams.” Unknown

“One doesn’t discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.” –Andre Gide

“Having a true faith is the most difficult thing in the world. Many will try to take it from you.” –Steve Prefontaine

“Success means having the courage, the determination, and the will to become the person you believe you were meant to be.” –George Sheehan


Have a great weekend everyone, and let me know your favorite quote if you have one! I’d love to hear.

Photo credit: Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 License. Some rights reserved by Bill Damon. (This photo originally posted at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/billdamon/12016479684/in/photolist-jiRALd-iHW8DU-jiRfeR/)


Filed under Health/Wellness, Inspiration, Running

Do I Look Pretentious Holding This Mason Jar?

If you live at Whole Foods, spend way too much time staring at blogs/Instagrammed/Pinterest food pics, love your mason jars, or wonder whether chard is the new kale—or tease your friends who do—“Hipsters Love Food” is for you. It’s perfect silliness for a Friday.

I’m surprised that spiralized zucchini topped with a craft beer-green smoothie sauce didn’t make an appearance, but I guess you can only cram so much into a short video.

Anything you identify with?

By the way, I got to this video in a circuitous way from Nina Badzin’s Friday Finds, where she had spotlighted another really funny video on Daylight Savings that you can also see on the Nacho Punch comedy channel.


Filed under Health/Wellness

Diary of a Reluctant Run


For the second day in a row, the sky is gray. I look up from my desk and out the window. There’s a sense of stillness to the air, even though I can see the raindrops hitting the ground. Maybe it’s just my own brain that’s still. Still like a stagnating pond.

As a runner who has battled multiple setbacks over the last few years, both external (e.g., injuries) and internal (e.g., resistance), I sometimes feel like I’m in perpetual start-over mode, and what was once habit can now sometimes require seismic energy. I know it would help to get up and get some fresh air and move my body. I know this, because it always does. But I can’t. I even have good “reasons”:

  • I don’t have time.
  • I’m busy with work, and even though my mind is not generating anything great as I sit here (or really anything) parked at my desk for what feels like the umpteenth hour in a row, I—see reason above—don’t have time.
  • It’s raining.
  • I feel sluggish, and I don’t want to warm up, and if I don’t warm up, I really shouldn’t run, since I’ve been trying to be much better about the warm-up thing.
  • I read we might be getting a thunderstorm. That doesn’t seem to be the case now. But hey, best to be on the safe side right?
  • I don’t really feel like it.
  • Besides, lunch sounds better than running.
  • It’s probably best just not to go.

I go anyway. I force myself out of my seat, put on my layers and my Garmin, don my shoes, and get myself out the door before I can change my mind.

Almost immediately, the rain soaks through my shoes and everything else not covered by water-resistant material—yep, it’s wet out here all right—but what is also instantaneous is that I feel more awake and alive, and I’m so glad I’ve come out. I look around and my eyes take in what’s left of the orange leaves, the stragglers. They are so beautiful, and we won’t have them for much longer. A short time later, I am running past the grade school near where I live. The playground looks abandoned, and I think about being a kid and that jump-out-of-my-skin feeling I had on rainy days when we were stuck inside. Ugh, all that sitting. I take a deep breath as I run past and revel in my big-girl freedom.

On my run, I’m nearly the only pedestrian, save for one man in a heavy rain slicker who’s walking his dog, and later a woman doing the same. She is shivering against the cold, as she has braved the rain without the right kind of jacket to repel the water.

As I run, the rain beats against my body, and my feet beat against the ground, and I am propelled forward in a way that changes the day’s trajectory. I no longer feel like a Walking Dead extra after doing yet another take of a single filler scene. Instead, my brain fires with creative thoughts about how to tackle the writing project I’d been working on, as well as other projects that I hadn’t even been thinking about just a little while ago. By the time I return home, I’m soaking wet, but I’m full of fresh air and fresh ideas. I’m excited to get back to my desk and put my thoughts on paper.

There are things I do that I think, “I probably shouldn’t have just done that.” Running though?

Never one of those things.


Filed under Inspiration, Running

Fall Pumpkin Soup with Maple Coconut Cashew Cream (Vegan)


Yesterday, fall arrived officially, and with it, nice long walks or runs in cooler weather, cozying up with great books, and, of course, all things pumpkin. To usher in the new season, I spent many hours in the kitchen using almost every dish in my quest for a yummy pumpkin soup, rich in protein. Since I tend to be quite experimental in the kitchen, the results are never guaranteed, but I was thrilled at how this pumpkin soup turned out. This might even replace my longtime favorite, chickpea lentil soup (which I’ll post another time). Next time I will double the amounts so I can freeze more of it.

On the health front, lentils are a great source of protein, and pumpkin, lentils, and cashews are considered superfoods. As for packaged coconut milk, there’s far more back and forth, but I think it’s a fine in treaty moderation. The entire carton of coconut milk has 20 grams of fat, which isn’t bad spread over the entire amount of the soup. The cashews are, of course, high in fat, but you only need to drizzle a bit of the cashew cream onto your soup.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!


Creamy Pumpkin Soup

  • Small to medium pie pumpkin
  • 11-ounce carton So Delicious Lite Culinary Coconut Milk (or equivalent amount/style)
  • 1 small red onion
  • 1 cup dry red lentils
  • 4 cups water for lentils
  • 2 cups water for soup (or broth if you prefer)
  • 4 T fresh ginger
  • 1 T cinnamon
  • 1 T nutmeg
  • Dash of chili powder
  • Cayenne, salt, and pepper to taste
  • 1 tsp. or so of olive oil

Maple Coconut Cashew Cream

  • ½ cup cashews soaked for 2 hours to overnight
  • A splash of water
  • Splash of coconut milk from the coconut carton above
  • 1 T maple syrup

Servings: About 8 cups


  1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. You’ll need about 2 cups of pumpkin for the soup. My pumpkin was 3.5 pounds, which yielded the two cups, plus about a cup more to make pumpkin butter or to simply have on hand.
  2. Wash pumpkin thoroughly under running water; be sure to scrub well to get all dirt off from skin. Dry, cut off top, then cut pumpkin lengthwise. Scrape out seeds and pulp. You will have to work at this—those strings like to hang on—and set aside.
  3. Place cut sides down on shallow baking dish. Bake at 350 degrees for 40 to 60 minutes, until soft but not too mushy. (Begin testing at 40 minutes, then use judgment as to how often from there.)
  4. For red lentils, pour four cups of water into pan, and put flame on high. Take lentils and spread out on flat wide plate or baking sheet to examine and sort, looking for any stones, dirt or damaged lentils. Rinse throughly in fine mesh strainer moving them around to make sure you’ve rinsed from all angles. Once rinsed, place lentils into the pan of water that’s been heating. Bring to boil, then lower flame and simmer gently will lid tilted, until lentils are soft but not mushy. Scoop off the foamy stuff that rises to the top (you’ll need to do that a few times). Start checking the lentils for doneness at 10 to 15 minutes, though the recommended time on the package is 20 to 35. If they get a bit too mushy, it’s no big deal, because you’ll be blending them into the soup.
  5. While pumpkin is baking and lentils are cooking, finely chop onion, then sauté on very low in enough olive oil to just smear the bottom of the pan. You can do this in a large soup pan that you will transfer the blended soup to in order to save using another dish. Stir onions at regular intervals to prevent from sticking. Onions will be done when they reach an almost caramelized consistency.
  6. While onions are cooking, wash and peel the ginger. Finely chop, then add to onions. If you would like a stronger, fresher ginger flavor, simply set aside. You can add the ginger during the blending process.
  7. Now separate pumpkin pulp from the seeds as best as you can easily, just using your hands. What you can’t separate easily, soak in water. After you’ve separated all the seeds from the pulp, dry them a bit, then lay flat on baking sheet. Salt them lightly.
  8. When pumpkin is ready, take it out of the oven, and allow it to cool for a bit. Leave oven on and place baking sheet with the seeds in there. Bake for 15 to 30 minutes, until crisp. Take them out every 5 minutes or so and stir them around so they don’t stick or burn.
  9. Add cashews to blender, splash with just a bit of water, then enough of the coconut milk to almost cover the cashews. Add the tablespoon of maple syrup. Blend thoroughly until the mixture has a cream-like smooth consistency. Pour into small dish or measuring cup (which makes the mixture easier to drizzle on soup). Pour out as much as you can, but don’t worry about cleaning it afterward. You’ll blend the soup in here and any residue will add to the taste of the soup.
  10. Back to the pumpkin: Scoop out two cups.
  11. To blender, add ginger, onions, and coconut milk. Blend until smooth. Then add pumpkin, lentils, some of the water, and your spices. Blend until a smooth puree, and taste at each stage so you don’t add too much water. If you’ve decided to bump up the spices (per the notes below), don’t add more than the baseline amount until you’ve got everything blended. It’s always easier to add more spice than take it away!
  12. Once blended, pour the amount of soup you want to eat now into the pan you cooked the onions in or a new one, and heat on low until desired temperature. Freeze or refrigerator the rest.
  13. Pour heated soup into bowls, drizzle with cashew cream, and sprinkle with pumpkin seeds. Serve with small salad, and toasted sourdough bread topped with Earth Balance.


Notes and Modifications

  • Halve the cinnamon and nutmeg measurements for a more subtle pumpkin-pie-spice flavor. Same for the ginger.
  • Alternatively, for a more warming and stronger pumpkin-associated spice flavor, bump up the amount of the ginger and cinnamon, especially, but as mentioned do so only a bit at a time, continuing to taste.
  • This is a savory soup. If you want a sweeter soup, add a bit of maple syrup to the soup. The cashew cream will sweeten the soup slightly when mixed in, but not much.
  • The chili powder is a different flavor entirely and is only meant to add a subtle complexity. If that’s the flavor you wish to make stronger, hold back on the other spices.
  • So Delicious promises their packaging has no BPA. The entire carton of Lite has 20 grams of fat, which spread over the whole soup, doesn’t seem to bad, but if that worries you, go easier on the coconut milk and replace some liquid with broth. As for the cashew cream, if fat is of concern, leave that out of the equation.


  1. You can eat the skin!
  2. Pumpkin is a great DIY beauty ingredient.
  3. Apparently, a lot of people make their pumpkin pies with butternut squash. (But then isn’t it just squash pie?)

Happy fall!

Do you like fall? What favorite fall things about it, if so?


Filed under Vegan food

Glute Strengthener, A Playlist Fit for Rocky, Oiselle Fashion Show, and More

Walden Pond

View from trail at Walden Pond during fall

This week, temperatures dropped and I saw telltale signs of fall—a smattering of yellow and orange leaves amongst the lush green, a sparkle to the air as if you’re looking through diamond glasses, vivid blue skies, and pink and orange sunsets. At this time of the year, I feel as if I could run forever. (Though fyi: emphasis on the word ‘feel.’) Fall is a great time for running, and it seems like there’s lots of exciting news and developments around it. So, I thought this week I would put together a bit of link love for things that grabbed my attention.

First up, Oiselle used only real athletes in their fashion show, which grabbed the attention of the New York Times.


The new Runner’s World hit newsstands and doorsteps, and, Wow! I love the fresher and edgier redesign. I always thought the covers turned something really exciting into something, well, kind of staid. So it’s nice to see some movement and life reflected. Plus, how about those vegan socks! Also, I loved the passion with which Sons of Anarchy’s Theo Rossi spoke of running.

Karla Bruning (as usual) has wonderfully motivating posts. Two faves: running mantras and a Philadelphia Marathon playlist.

On a different note, the Apple Watch may have worrisome repercussions for all the other fitness trackers and running watches.

And finally, here’s my new favorite strengthening exercise: Marching bridge. It’s from a series of strengthening exercises taken from the book Build Your Running Body.




Filed under Inspiration, Running

In Loving Memory of My Cat, Sox


Our sweet Sox, ca. 1999 to 2014. I was lucky to have him in my life, and I will miss him always.

On July 5, we said goodbye to our beautiful and loving cat Sox. Both his illness and death hit me hard. But I realized, finally, that not marking this important passing was a barrier. It feels very strange to come back and talk about books and running and so much fun stuff without talking about this important part of my life. Even if it feels too private. And even though it’s definitely an attempt that is completely imperfect. (I’ve scrapped lots of drafts already.)


In early June, on a Friday night, Sox lost control of his right back leg, and the next day, when my boyfriend and I brought him in to the vet, we found out he had cancer. It was pressing on his nerves, and that’s why he’d lost control of his leg. Given his age—15—and how huge the tumor was (probably one-third to half the size of his entire torso area on the X-ray), the prognosis was really bad. The doctor said there was not much we could do besides make him comfortable. There would come a time, and soon, when a hard decision would need to be made. He’d become increasingly ill, and before long, he’d lose complete control of all his limbs, period.

“How long do you think he has?” I asked.
“Two weeks, a month,” he said. “Not long.”

There’s nothing like knowing you’re going to lose a loved one to snap you out of autopilot, and make you realize: No matter how much you appreciate your life and lives in it, nothing is a given. How many times had I fed Sox and his much younger brother, Amos, worried over them, cleaned their litter boxes, made sure I gave them equal attention? How many times had I felt a tap tap on my leg during the work day and knew I would look down to see Sox’s little paw demanding permission to sit on my lap. To which I would say, “I’m trying to work,” as I leaned back and let him on. Every time. I never really stopped to think, this too shall end.

All these little things, and plenty more like them, are acts of love and connection that accrue over time and give happiness and purpose. In this pet realm, more than nine years of it. My boyfriend and he came into my life as a great package deal, they’d been through things even before I was in the picture. But once I was, Sox loved me as if I’d raised him from a kitten. I adored him right away.

The last time Sox sat on my lap was the night he lost control of his leg, the night before we took him into the vet. I dissolved into tears immediately, because I just knew something was really wrong, though I never would’ve guessed cancer. (We’d already been through some medical issues earlier in the year with Amos.) My boyfriend put Sox on my lap and my little tuxedo guy pressed against me, him doing his usual, “Feel better, k?” One of the best things about him was the way he gave comfort. He could never stand to see you sad, and would snuggle you, a worried look on his face so you had no choice but to feel better. That night, I felt so upset already (who knew how much more there was to come), but I calmed down so I wouldn’t distress him as well. But you know what? What I didn’t think was, “That’s the last time he will sit on my lap.” After the thousands and thousands of times he’s done so. And that wasn’t the only thing that changed.

He got worse and fast. You could almost see the weight falling away, and he deteriorated day by day. He stayed his absolutely sweet self, of course. Sweet and loving as always. But for the next month, my life revolved around setting up little beds so he could be with us (or simply giving him a rug when he started laying in weird places), reading on the floor next to him so I could pet him, giving him syringes of pain medicine, trying to find food he would eat since as time went on that got exponentially more difficult, etc. etc. This was a new reality, and gone were all his typical behaviors. There would be no more lap sitting, or him laying in his round brown bed we called a “cookie,” and the cat who’d never been able to get enough petting eventually became so sensitive, he even moved away from my touch a few times at the end.


In the good ol’ days: “Helping” me read

And then, on July 4—after a few days of free-fall worsening and him not eating at all, not even the broth from the broth-based food I’d found and definitely not the acute care food—he crashed. We were in the kitchen, me preparing food for the 4th of July family barbeque, when I looked over and saw that he was literally collapsing. His limbs completely went out and the frantic look on this former fierce and regal cat’s face as he struggled against it was utterly heartbreaking. My boyfriend had been walking through just at the same time, and he quickly helped Sox onto a rug I’d set down. Needless to say, I didn’t go to the barbeque. (I literally made my boyfriend get out for a while. Though he didn’t want to, I think he needed it. Later that night, when I went to bed, they got their alone time.) But that afternoon, I spent just sitting next him and singing softly. I patted him only briefly so as not to disturb him, while Amos lay next to him on the other side, a position he’d steadfastly held since our finding out about the illness.

Earlier, in June, not long after I’d found out about the cancer and during a call about bloodwork, I’d talked to the other vet at the clinic, Dr. H, about the inevitable hard decision that would have to be made, and asked her, “How will we know when it’s time?” The decision to euthanize is one I’d never actually thought that I’d have to make, but if you have a pet that you care for in a way that enables them to live a long life, the odds are you may face it. The short version for me is that although I absolutely love both Sox and Amos, the idea that they would have a horrible suffering life is intolerable to me. But that doesn’t make the decision any easier or raise any fewer questions. Dr. H said simply, “Believe me, you’ll just know.”

Although just a few days previously I’d picked up a new pack of pain syringes and was maybe in some sort of hopeful denial that we had lots of time, the next morning, on July 5, there was no more hope or denial, just a sad knowing. It was clearly time, or at least as clear as such a huge thing could be. Yet, one of the things that’s so painful in all of this is that I so want for Sox to have still known at the end how loved he was. But honestly, by the end, I think his mind had left him. He even had these kitten-like moments, but with this vacant, dazed look in his eyes. But there’s that fear that for all I know, his life force still said, “More time!!” I’ll simply never know. We did the best we could with not enough information, which is a lot like life generally, only I’m not usually so conscious of that fact, nor do the consequences seem so huge.

So after I made the necessary arrangements, we went to the vet clinic. We were truly blessed with a wonderful and compassionate doctor and vet tech/practice manager. The latter, in particular, had worked very hard to make every visit, call, and interaction in the previous month so much better than it would have been, if not for her having been a part of it. They were both so soothing and sweet to us, and I am forever grateful to them for making a terrible experience better. They made Sox as comfortable as possible, and we were allowed to be in the room with him the whole time and for as long as we wanted after.

Still, it was what it was. Which was heartbreaking. I definitely haven’t skated through life without my fair share of challenges, but for me, that experience was the saddest, hardest thing I’ve ever been through.

Kitty Brother love

After the illness takes hold, Amos is always nearby (and now suddenly heavier than his brother because of all Sox’s weight loss.)

When we got home that day, Amos’s little head peeked around our legs looking for his brother. He continued to do that for weeks afterward, and when the reality that Sox wasn’t coming back sunk in, Amos’s grief really took hold. (And by that, I mean beyond the crazed reactions to Sox’s left-behind stuff in the early days.) I adopted Amos from the shelter as a kitten more than 8 years ago, when Sox was an adult, and it took awhile for Sox to accept Amos (partly because Amos can be, let’s just say, aggressively rambunctious). But, for Amos, he’s never been alone until now.  The last couple days (cross fingers) I think I am finally starting to see signs that he’s going in a more positive direction, and maybe at some point we’ll think of getting him another sibling.


A long time ago, a woman I worked for told me something along the lines of, “Don’t get a pet. You’ll come to love and depend on them, and then in 10 to 15 years they’ll die and break your heart. It’s not worth it.”

Well, she got one part of that right. But the “worth it” part, not so much. It definitely has been.

Sox was a great cat, and I seriously can’t believe my always-there little guy is actually gone. But here’s at least one thing: A few days ago, I got up in the middle of the night, my cell phone shining in front of me as a flashlight, and my heart felt like it stopped. For a second, I thought I literally saw him in front of me, not in that ‘oh he used to sit there’ way, but literally. It was just a moment, but it was so strong. And then I realized it was just the cell light casting a shadow on Amos in the hallway, making him look darker and bigger where the shadow outlined his form a few inches away from his body.

Darker and bigger. Our losses steal some of our “lightness,” certainly. Perhaps we come to have a bigger shadow ourselves, and we are also heavier, weighted down a bit more, but oh, what we gain. Grief, when it comes from love (as a feeling and a verb) given freely albeit imperfectly, is definitely worth the price of the happiness it bought. Although I don’t 100% feel that right now, I believe that’s true.

Mr. Sox aka Sexy aka SexyBeast aka loving and loved feline with a thousand names….

We love and miss you. We’re moving on (or trying), but we’ll never forget you.


Wild Geese

by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.


Filed under Uncategorized