Tuesday, April 22, 2014
I wake on my birthday to furious wind buffeting the tree outside my place. It's not yet five am. There are no other sounds. All quiet except for the hum of the computer and intermittant sounds of the soft scraping of leaves being blown on the concrete pavement. I've had most of the coffee in the pot, well, one more half cup this time without milk. I've lived this sixty-three years as authentically as I could with the intention to do no harm and to give back more than I receive. I have no plans to celebrate & look forward to a future that is, I hope, extra-ordinarily extraordinary.