“Hark! What light through yonder window breaks?”
Oh for crying out loud it’s morning already!
A relatively sleepless night, and all the lamer because I spent a lot of it thinking about, of all things, a broken sprayer bottle that I use to spray water over hundreds of seedlings I’ve started in the basement. That, and our two feeder pigs that I worry aren’t gaining weight like they should (they’re growing like hogs); wind scraping against the windows like cats clawing at bark on a tree; the low pasture: can I turn it into a baseball field for the kids, and who’s going to teach them baseball (baseball’s the one that’s played with a small, round ball, right?).
Then I ponder John Henry Newman’s great quote: “Life is short, death is certain, and the world to come is everlasting.” During the day that’s food for thought. But at night, with the wind howling and sleep out-of-reach, your mortality seems even closer at hand.