It is another exquisite day and so beautiful, the softest tears fill my eyes. I look out on the ridge. When we bought this house thirty years ago, we were surrounded with trees, and over the years, one after another had to go, so the view is quite something and I can actually see a runner running along the opposite ridge in sunshine while I am still in shade.
I found myself yesterday thinking about dew. Someone had written a poem and said "silent dew." For me, dew is quite a force and speaks. It was a treat to think of my special memories of dew encounters, seeing a whole meadow of it one time on Mount Tam, and lupine holding a jewel of it in its palm. There is no dew this morning, but bird song is strong.
My insides are stroked with reverence this last April day of 2008.
