Let me give you a poem in these last hours of July:
The silence that lies in the grass
on the the underside of each blade
and in the blue space between the stones.
These sweet words of space and color are from Rolf Jacobsen, a poet quoted in a book that I read this month in the backcountry, titled Silence In the Age of Noise by Erling Kagge.
Lovely, right?
Yes.
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