There is that way, in which those places, near where you live and breathe and sleep and do your work, change as inimitably as you do, with the passing of days, with seasons, with events and your own realizations. So that each time you encounter the flurry of wild plants on the corner of your block, or the small weed pushing up by the corner store, or the curving dirt road pulling your eye back back to the long line of the small mountain range, all present to you their different aspects in each moment. Different. In my new quiet life, there is suddenly time and space in thought and action to take note of these things. Because, listen, no matter what great difficulties land in your life and take root, still there is within it all the great Grace, shouldering through, and filling you with it's fine small faith.
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