Family

Now is my fatherA traveler, like all the bold menHe talked of, endlesslyAnd with boundless admiration,Over the supper table, Or gazing up from his white pillow-Book on his lap always, untilEven that grew too heavy to hold. Now is my father free of all binding fevers.Now is my fatherTraveling where there is no road....
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If you are not put offBy the voice of the valleyAnd the starry peaks,Why not walk through the shady cedarsAnd come see me? At duskCome to my hut – The crickets willSerenade you, and I willIntroduce you to the moonlit woods. -Ryokan
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This is our living room, currently free of dog hair. Eva uses the harp as part of her hospice and palliative care work and we pluck around on it occasionally for fun. That’s ginger growing in the background there. She’s a big herbalist and it was very cool, when we went on a hike...
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