Monday, February 9, 2009.
"He climbed the tree repeatedly, and he began to prefer the windy times when he could perch near the sky and feel the rush of the air and watch the horizon fall and rise. He went into the woods whenever a big wind started. The first time he was out in a storm, he was thrilled by the thrashing of the branches and the leaves, the crash of the rain, the danger. Soon he knew the big oak so well he could climb it by moonlight. The rush was even greater in a nighttime storm, a chaos of motion and wet blindness. And when the storm passed and uncovered the stars, it was a kind of miracle to cling so close to them and wait and watch while a blush of color grew on the horizon, then unrolled and unrolled until all the air was lit with blue and bright as day."
I read this, then looked around at all of my things and wondered why.
Love, Jennifer
2 comments:
Inspiring :)
Thanks for sharing Jebby. And for coming out of your bloglessness with 3 blogs. woo!
Love,
Berto
I wonder all the time.
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