Tonight out on Summit Road, it is so dark I
can't see the pup, only the sheen of the rain on the pavement, the vague
outline of the range beneath the steadily moving blanket of thick fog.
The wind
is fresh and clear, after a resting day indoors; the smells of grass and forest
and farmland and whatever the breeze carries past us fragrant and complex as a
fine wine, or a remarkably rendered cheese.
Here, in this place of lives and
growing things, of news and controversy, of cruelty and kindness , we sip from
the intransigent nature of what means the most to us.
Together, we close our
eyes, and feel the vapor of life passing by.
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