The boys and I have now been almost one week in Minnesota. The land is so beautiful, and the skies. Homer spoke of the “wine-dark sea” – two evenings ago I saw wine-dark hills in the distance, blue and purple; and in the middle and foreground, a gently undulating sea of green.
My sister and her husband and their children live in a white many-gabled house with green shutters. There are woods behind, and a grove and pond before, and sometimes the only sound is the wind in trees.
The effect on me of the benignity of my sister, her family, their home, and the land became clear to me a couple of days ago. I plucked from my shirtfront the fifth of the six ticks my sons and I have collected together since we’ve arrived. Instead of my usual reaction, which is to regard a tick something like this:
I looked at it’s wiggling legs and considered that here was a creature just tryin’ to make livin’ and doin’ the best it can.
Right now I am in the Twin Cities with my sister Bernadette and her husband Mike. Their house is an island of peace of another kind. I’ll write more on both places later.