i would fly away
and be at rest
i would wander far away
lodge in the wildnerness
selah
i would hasten to my place of refuge
from the stormy wind and tempest
psalm 55
Some days I felt and urgent responsibility to each change of light outside the sunporch windows. Who would remember any of it, any of this our time, and the wind thrashing in the buckeye limbs outside? Somebody had to do it, somebody had to hang onto the days with teeth and fists, or the whole show had been in vain. That it was impossible never entered my reckoning, For work, for a task, I had never heard that word. -Annie Dillard
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