Part of the hope for this time of vacation was to be less intentional and a bit less reflective. (Can one do that while still being open to writing a blog?) My success is proportional to my ability to be out in nature, and keeping my mind from musing overmuch!.

This poem, another from Wendell Berry's book "Given: Poems,"  was a found treasure this morning.

Sabbaths 2000

I know for a while again
the health of self-forgetfulness,
looking out at the sky through
a notch in the valley side,
the black woods wintry on 
the hills, small clouds at sunset 
passing across.  And I know
that this is one of the thresholds
between Earth and Heaven,
from which even I may step
forth from my self and be free.

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