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Sunday July 29, 2018
Out into August then, while there is time. When I step into it as into something new, I sense thousands and thousands of roving lives, taking their opportunities where and when they can. The day is hot and shining. The oak leaves, no longer fresh and young, are still
tough, deeply green, harnessing the sun, under a stir and slide of air. Two big red-tailed hawks sail high overhead screaming constantly. there is a dragging rattling sound of leaves
as a box turtle moves slowly along. I feel a balance in space
between them all: the roamers, hawks or gulls, in the sky’s great allowance. There is an intensity here that makes my heart beat faster.