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The more things change...

Change is not so much what we make as it is what happens to us unawares. Not everything that changes is progress but it is inevitable that everything changes. The seasons flow on, all too quickly. We tighten our life-vests, and try to steer clear of the rocks. Along our way down the river, we are grateful for every resting place. Here's ours. Above, as it was in our first August here in 2016, and below, as it is now. We still miss the old cherry tree in the foreground of the first photo. It died the year after we moved here. We've carved a garden out of the hill and planted blueberries on the slope above. One thing hasn't changed. We're still here. It's still home. We'll hold to that reality as long as we can.

Things happen...

These days, things happen with increasing frequency that remind me of my temporary status as an active participant in the goings-on of the world. So I find comfort in the continuance of relatively brief and passing things, clouds, the light of a winter afternoon, the turning of the seasons.

Yet, forever changing, the earth, the sky, the trees abide. Always there, bearing witness to creation. Bodies age, come apart, lives flicker past like the leaves that bud in spring and fall in autumn, like the snowflake that melts on an outstretched palm. Yet they keep becoming endlessly from the everliving Soul who births all being.

Henry's books.