November 28, 2020

Made my step count again. Did so though it was a gorgeous day on a holiday weekend and all the pull-overs were crowded. I did find solitude to walk in. Found a single wand of lyre-leafed sage blooming pale sky-blue in the middle of a path. Watched a father and his tiny son walk hand-in-hand under the trees, I envying the memories they were making, blessing them with great blessings beamed at the backs of their heads. The music of the walk was Copland’s “Old American Songs.” Came home to find two messages of praise for OBN, messages I desperately needed to hear, fearing with frozen heart that one more of my children was going to drop into oblivion. DF said they had read Kindle versions, but re-ordered because “it’s the kind of book you want to hold in your hands.” SH said it was engrossing and asked for my address so she could send me something. Is it too much to ask for that everyday? Suppose it is. . . .