" It was November - the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind songs in the pines." {L.M....

" ... she experienced each year this lifting of the spirits as August slipped away, off the calendar, and one could stop pretending that...

" If I were a perfect person, I would be bowing continually. I'm not, though I pause whenever I feel this holiness. Which is why I'm so...

" I don't ever crave extraordinary moments anymore. Just small, gentle hums of beauty streaming from below, above, and beyond simply from...

" This year, I have a feeling, will surprise me. It'a an open field; an empty garden plot, a shore that the highest tide had left exposed...