subtle joy

7.24.16.3364
7.24.16 ~ female mallard, Richmond, New Hampshire

In the woods, sitting still, there is subtle joy in listening to the tiniest sounds. There is delight in the textures of light.
~ Joan Tollifson
(Awake in the Heartland)

7.24.16.3381
7.24.16 ~ Richmond, New Hampshire

We, all of us — blue-green algae, galaxies, and bear grass, philosophers and clams — will some day dissipate into vibrating motes. In the end, all of natural creation is only sound and silence moving through space and time, like music.
~ Kathleen Dean Moore
(The Pine Island Paradox: Making Connections in a Disconnected World)

7.24.16.3421
7.24.16 ~ Richmond, New Hampshire

8 thoughts on “subtle joy”

  1. Nearest I can come is Robert Frost. “But I have promises to keep,
    “And miles to go before I sleep”

    1. Oh Ron, if only I could stop by the woods on a snowy evening right now, and escape this cursed heat wave…

    1. Thank you, Sheryl! I know what you mean – he seems to be tolerating my presence with some marked indifference.

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