December 22, 2020

Blue dome scoured bluer, brighter by hard winds. My senses want to call it a perfect winter day. Took a late afternoon hike at French Broad Park. Not a bird in the trees, but there was a dog park filled with happy dogs. Met the homeless walking along the bank, from the assortment of tents and lean-to’s visible now from the far bank of the river. Met with WB as he was jogging. He looked to be the God of Health, even with his ordination postponed by Covid. 

Treva’s husband has died. This is shocking to me in ways difficult to explain. I met him perhaps six times, but we had a lively Facebook relationship, and Treva and I were charter members of the same clique at Ellet. It’s like losing a relative.

Radio on loud with select Classical Christmas music.