Sometimes life feels like a bunch of pick-up sticks.  Clasped together in our palm, we let go, either willingly or with a push from outside, and the sticks fall, so we’re given the opportunity to  put them back together again in a whole new form.  

I read about humans needing to adapt to increasing heating patterns on the planet. Impermanence.  Change, and how do we meet what comes?

Morning fog on the ridge
A gentle day in Half Moon Bay
Thank you, Rachel Carson, for the gift of pelicans
Hearts are everywhere

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