It's eery that this is the day the NYT Book Review featured Marie's book -- http://nyti.ms/1ghCuIJ -- it ends with this, "I’ll comfort myself with the advice she leaves for all of us in the depths of December: 'Without the wait, and without the emptiness, and without the browning and drying and blowing away, the cold, the frozen pots, the bareness, the shriveled herb leaves, the sticks of fig and rose, without the white pillows of snow, the spare horizon, spring would be nothing. . . . We need sleep. We need to be empty..." While this is a sad day, how can we help but rejoice that Mandela lived to 95 and died at home?
I thought of you there today as we got the news here.
ReplyDeleteI was thinking about you and South Africa today.
ReplyDeleteevocative photo for such a day . . .
ReplyDeleteIs that flat top a natural formation?
ReplyDeletebeautiful country: sad day.
ReplyDeleteLong way, long way, long walk to freedom.
ReplyDeleteIn a strange way I'm glad you're home. Must be a good place to mourn.
ReplyDeleteYou and South Africa have been in my thoughts.
xo J
It's eery that this is the day the NYT Book Review featured Marie's book -- http://nyti.ms/1ghCuIJ -- it ends with this, "I’ll comfort myself with the advice she leaves for all of us in the depths of December: 'Without the wait, and without the emptiness, and without the browning and drying and blowing away, the cold, the frozen pots, the bareness, the shriveled herb leaves, the sticks of fig and rose, without the white pillows of snow, the spare horizon, spring would be nothing. . . . We need sleep. We need to be empty..." While this is a sad day, how can we help but rejoice that Mandela lived to 95 and died at home?
ReplyDeleteFinally and gloriously free, the Man.
ReplyDelete