How beautiful this morning was Pasture Pond.
It had lain in the dark, all night,
catching the rain...
All day I hang out
over a desk
grinding my teeth
Then I sleep.
Then I come out of the house,
even before the sun is up,
and walk back through the pinewoods
to Pasture Pond. - Mary Oliver
In the nights long hours, we catch the beauty after the grind of the day. What if we could wake to this dreamt beauty by a walk in the ponds, instead of the headlines of the gulf oil spill coming to shore upon the water edges of Louisiana? What if we do, and we just don't know it? What if all the elements in the world catch all the other elements - the rain, the oil, the birds, our stresses that lead to grinding of teeth? Then we walk in beauty - to the pond, to the oiled beaches, to the memorial services, to life.