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We are so caught up in our own brief stories that we think we are the measure of things. The Earth has a story of her own, immeasurably longer and deeper than any of ours, or even our collective story as a species. We come and go and Earth abides. But like us creatures, the planet changes continually, ever becoming and unbecoming. For every birth there is a death, every building up eventually subsides into collapse, every rising brings on a fall. Night and day, winter and summer, sorrow and joy, there can never be one without the other. Life truly does hang in the balance. We are always dancing in the dragon's mouth, oblivious to every thing but our one precious terrible or glorious moment. Whenever and wherever you can, as much as you are able, rejoice in it and give thanks that you are here. Henry's books .



January came in wet and warm this year. We put all the houseplants outside during the day. That seemed to cheer them up considerably.

But after a couple of days, the weather turned properly cold and miserable, and everyone agreed it was winter after all.

The seed catalogs began arriving in the post this week, however, so even on these bleak days, spring is not far from our minds.

Henry's books.