Where to begin

It’s been a while.

Today is a day to myself, a great and lovely gift. I am in my neighborhood cafe. It is sort of like this at my table:

except not as sunny, and today I am reading Wendell Berry instead of Rusty Morrison. Here are some things Berry writes:

“The history of our time has been to a considerable extent the movement of the center of consciousness away from home.”

and

“By means of the machine metaphor we have eliminated any fear or awe or reverence or humility or delight or joy that might have restrained us in our use of the world.”

and

“We must cleanse ourselves of slovenliness, laziness, and waste. We must learn to discipline ourselves, to restrain ourselves, to need less, to care more for the needs of others. We must understand what the health of the earth requires, and we must put that before all other needs.”

(All in Unsettling of America.)

A couple of days ago, on another date with myself (our relationship had really been neglected), I took this photo out the window:

and a guy next to me remarked that I seemed like a character in a detective novel. “I hope you got him!” he said.

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