local to local
“By means of all created things, without exception, the divine assails us, penetrates us, and molds us. We imagine it as distant and inaccessible, where as in fact we live steeped in its burning layer. “ Teilhard. It is very still, and yet the wind ruffles everything. No car has rounded our corner yet today, nothing large on the highway either. Jessica sleeps in her basement hideaway and I am resistant to rise. Waiting for clouds to move on…or for the storm… a singular moment, completely unique and yet not even so much as a full thread in the larger fabric.