With the wind whistling through the trees tonight, I spent some time looking through my photographs from this past summer. I came across this picture of Scabiosa caucasica – one of my all-time favourite flowers.It’s hard to believe that it is already November. When I took the dog outside last tonight, I heard the sound of geese flying overhead and thought of their long flight to a warmer place. I was reminded of this poem by Mary Oliver.
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
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