My sister Dottie will spend a good part of her year- long sabbatical at a hermitage in the woods. She and a carload of her possessions arrived last week.
A whole year of mostly solitude in a simple cabin in the woods. In the middle of nowhere U.S.A.
With her own Walden’s Pond.
And leafy tree boughs for company.
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
-Henry David Thoreau
A year of contemplation under a curtain of green.
Lately I am also contemplative. But my thoughts are not leading me down sunlit forest paths. My mind is cluttered. There is ringing in my ears.
If only I had not forgotten my stout pole.