...since I started writing here, and this is post #230. It feels as though it should be momentous, yet life is ordinary, and momentous things may overwhelm and/or go unrecognized, either or both.
Ah, dear reader, let us learn over and over to be gentle with ourselves and each other, more and more gentle with ourselves and the world.
There's s skim of snow over meadows and fields but not lying on the roads. The large, purple and yellow and white crocuses on the south side of the house are in full bloom. Many of the horses sheltered from the cold wind this morning, basked in early full sun, and now they've all moved out into the meadows under the deep, blue sky, browsing. Another day full of all that never before was quite exactly like this.
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