Today it is the sixty-three purposeful steps to my roadside mailbox. Each step offers the on-going gifts of the journey: the tiniest of red mites dancing circles on rain-frayed hollyhock leaves like turning kaleidoscopes of life, the yarrow’s responsive swoop and spill mimicking the deep yearnings of the world, and from the top perches of the steady oak the gargled call of the red-bellied woodpecker replying in synchronicity to the measured jumps of a startled, wood-house toad. The harsh corners of the world are momentarily set aside to embrace these reminders that all of life is one continuous, interconnected, flow …
