Sometimes I grow weary of the days, with all their fits and starts. I want to climb some old gray mountain, slowly, taking the rest of my life to do it, resting often, sleeping, under the pines or, above them, on the unclothed rocks. I want to see how many stars are still in the sky that we have smothered for years now, a century at least. I want to look back at everything, forgiving it all, and peaceful, knowing the last thing there is to know. All that urgency! Not what the earth is about! How silent the trees, their poetry being of themselves only. I want to take slow steps and think appropriate thoughts. In ten thousand years, maybe, a piece of the mountain will fall."
~Mary Oliver~
Swan: Poems and Prose Poems
(My photo was taken at Lake McDonald,
Glacier National Park in Montana, USA, several years’ ago.)
