en route for Aumont-Aubrac
"It is what I was born for -
to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world -
to instruct myself
over and over
in joy
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant -
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations."
~Mary Oliver
from the poem, 'Mindful'
It seemed like quite a long day from Les Faux to Aumont-Aubrac,
and when I checked my e-mail for the first time since leaving Paris
there was some sad, hard news about a family at home.
But even though it seemed like a bit of a dull, even difficult day,
the sun still came out
to leave the shadow of this tree on the ground
a quiet bit of joy to notice.
It seemed like quite a long day from Les Faux to Aumont-Aubrac,
and when I checked my e-mail for the first time since leaving Paris
there was some sad, hard news about a family at home.
But even though it seemed like a bit of a dull, even difficult day,
the sun still came out
to leave the shadow of this tree on the ground
a quiet bit of joy to notice.




