By David Wagoner
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
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My Monday was largely unexciting: laundry in the morning, a doctor's appointment in the early afternoon (semiannual physical, no drama, I even get to drop one prescription because my blood pressure is actually low). It was drizzling by the time I left the doctor, but we walked to the beach anyway; no bunnies today but there were ducks and geese, plus crew teams going by. When we got home, we put on the unfortunate Yankees-Guardians game.
We watched the new episode of The Franchise, which thinks it's cleverer and more biting than it is (race issues aside, Bad Monkey is much better written). Then we started watching Disclaimer, which is excellent; I knew Blanchett and Kline would be good but I had no idea Sacha Baron Cohen had an Alan Rickman performance in him. I'll post more Ireland photos soon, but I wanted to remember Stevens Pass and Snoqualmie Pass from driving yesterday:
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