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8:27 a.m. - November 28, 2007
Woke up this morning to cold gusts that made the wind chimes clang in disharmony, one of those mornings where burrowing deeper into the covers is required. It's time to turn on the heat and stop the silly game of mine - every year I see how long I can stand the cold before giving in and begin using the heater. Where do these silly things come from?

All this is secondary to the thought with which I woke up: If I know the hourglass is running and that one of the grains of sand will never be that intimate relationship I yearn for, how will I want to live out the remaining time? I have no answer but can say that barricading myself at home and sniveling in the dark isn't it. It's exciting to consider a response.

Hear my whispers and carry them like birds into tomorrow.


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