The other day I went for a walk in Witherle Woods with the dogs and had the guts to count my blessings for how good I have it. Within a half hour, both hounds had a face full of porcupine quills which I spent two days yanking out and making them despise and blame me for their trauma.
I should know not to think I have it made.
In fact as I'm recalling it, I was holding a perfect yellow and purple feather wrapped in a piece of birch bark when I started yanking quills. Where did those beautiful things go?
Yesterday, Monday, news came that we're heading into another New Now. Here we go: change, uncertainty, a call to "arms". That was right after I formatted this new blog to record musings about how dreamy is life.
Life isn't dreamy. It's good and provocative and a gauntlet, that's what life is. Gorgeous.