Gardening gives one back a sense of proportion about everything - except itself.
Light is snow sifted / To an abstraction.
It always comes back to the same necessity: go deep enough and there is a bedrock of truth, however hard.
When it comes to the important things one is always alone.
Death does frame a person and somehow it is the good that stays.
Whatever peace I know rests in the natural world, in feeling myself a part of it, even in a small way.