The phone rings. I do not answer. It is an alert without nuance.
“I called three times and no one picked up,” someone admonishes.
“And three times I was not in the mood
I was struck the other day by a line from Shakespeare’s As You Like It. The
heroic Orlando—famished by the wild and in need of food for himself and his
servant—
It all happens in the space of a tenth of a second: your zygomatic major muscle
engages and exposes your teeth, fifteen muscles in your face contract, your
epiglottis begins to obscure your
Wedges of geese flying overhead ritualistically at twilight. Nice to know what
we can count on. #summerevenings
—Terry Tempest Williams, Twitter
When I look at Your heavens, the work of Your fingers,
the
My nephew Jude was stillborn. The diagnosis came early in the pregnancy: an
extra chromosome written into the genetic language would lead to, among other
maladies, a terminal heart condition. A period on