February 24, 2022

Angry day. All of my anger is specific and phenomenal. That doesn’t seem to make it easier. Maybe it does. 

Wind blew from the south, tattering and swirling clouds in various grays. Speeding from the north against the wind, and yet barely flapping their wings, came long-winged hawks, forty of them anyway, heading south. It was a moment of beauty and mystery. At the end of it I was still angry.