"Let us not take for granted that life exists more fully in what it is commonly thought big than in what is commonly thought small."
in "The Common Reader", Virginia Woolf
They come for the seeds by the magnolia tree and leave me gifts.
This morning, one of these lay on the frozen ground by the bird feeders. Quietly, almost imperceptible.
But not insignificant.
And so here I am, back to leather and keys and deciding which feather will make it to my next journal...