Today, it's sunny and still cold. Currently, it's 53˚F, which would be fine. In early February.
Yesterday morning I woke to the news that the tree outside my office window is going to be cut down. Twice now Kathryn and I have managed to save that tree. But this time, I'm pretty sure there's nothing we can do. The new owner wants it gone. This is the tree that shades the western side of the house in summer (admittedly, an abysmally short season). This is the tree that has helped to keep me functional time after time after time. On this bleak and almost treeless New England street, it's a small mercy. And I honestly don't know how I'm going to cope with the loss of it. Saturday or Sunday someone will come with saws and axes, and then it will be gone, and it will be that much harder for me to sit down at this desk every day and try to work.
This year, it will not even be permitted to green.
And so it goes.
I have this sickness in the very center of me. It never leaves. But there are times it eclipses the world.
There are other things I was going to say today, but suddenly I see how they are of no consequence whatsoever.