Thursday, January 19, 2012

Snow pics

In the bluish light of Wednesday evening.

Shoveled path the the river.

Squirrel's-eye view. It's about knee-deep.




Thursday morning. Only a couple of inches of new snow fell overnight.



From inside the garage.  The snow-plow guy hasn't made it by, yet.



You can't see them here, but I had to wear gaiters to keep the snow out of my boots.

The river is frozen, except in a few places.  It really hasn't been all that cold this winter.

I've seen tracks where a few deer have walked across, but I don't trust it.



Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Been snowing for the last 24 hours

It had been a light winter until yesterday. 



No end in sight.


Monday, January 2, 2012

Whether what I have done is my life


"Some time when the river is ice ask me

mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
what I have done is my life."  William Stafford


I really like those lines, so much that I'm using them to introduce a chapter where I muse a bit about the search for vocation.  Here's the complete poem:


Ask Me

Some time when the river is ice ask me
mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
what I have done is my life. Others
have come in their slow way into
my thought, and some have tried to help
or to hurt: ask me what difference
their strongest love or hate has made.

I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look
at the silent river and wait. We know
the current is there, hidden; and there
are comings and goings from miles away
that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.

William Stafford