Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Though it is daylight, hanging over the misty snow-covered field is a thin and fragile three-quarter moon. It is so vaporous that I cannot tell if it is real or a reflection of the real. The field grass is frozen and white. The unbending trees cast long thin shadows over everything in sight. As usual, my gaze is focused more on the landscape that is earth than on the pale streaked sky. I am such a creature of the earth. The earth is familiar and what my imperfect mind can most understand. It seems more difficult to comprehend the heavens.