Phoebe
interrupts her game to swing through the front door and announce that
the taxi is here. It irritates Sandra slightly that he arrives so
early. It makes her feel hurried. So I go out to tell the taxi man
that she will only be ready in half an hour. “I'm early”, he says
through the wound down window, as I approach. He is finishing a
mouthful of lunch. And still has some red stains from it in the
corners of his mouth - maybe tomato sauce. “I came early”, he
says, “so that I could sit and look at the mountains for a bit.”
A collection of sporadic reflections on little journeys through life. About land and love, about mountains, mid-life and meaning, about relationship and rocks, about the science and poetry of parenthood. At its best it is a look below surface, a passionate engagement with beauty, and an on-going attempt to discover what is important.
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It is my hope that putting this voice out into our world has value, not only for me, but for others, as well. I admit to sometimes entertaining dreams of it going viral, of infecting the world with my vision. But most of the time I am content to be motivated by Gandhi's assertion: whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.