We wonder, what to write about?
Whatever is at hand.
John Updike's story, "The Full Glass," in the current New Yorker is a meditation inspired by a full glass of water.
There is a luminousness to numinous reality.
They say, count the stars.
This evening, I couldn't even begin to count the countless dandelions, their white orbs of seeds bobbing like the poppies on World War I Flanders fields, their yellowness shriveled or sleeping.
Numina.
Ah.
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1 comment:
Learned a new word here, Pawlie.
I recently posted a photo ofthe white orbs of our dandelions (getting possessive here!) in the bright morning sun.
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