It suddenly hit me that I was in this forest and it felt wet and cold and damp, but not that long ago, sometime in the past twenty or thirty or fifty years, it had been on fire. That sort of sums up certain things about the forests around here.
John R Walker 2012
I joy, that in these straits I see my west;For, though their currents yield return to none,
What shall my west hurt me? As west and east
In all flat maps (and I am one) are one,
So death doth touch the resurrection.
John Donne, “Hymn to God, My God, in My Sickness”