I’m finally back at the library. Between sickness and schedules, I’d fallen out of my evening writing routine, and it was really getting to me. It feels good to be back, though I’ve accomplished little tonight. Mostly drifting thoughts and failed attempts at cobbling together words around yesterday’s events. For the last fifteen minutes I’ve been watching the trees, lively with wind, bright green against a darkening sky. Little kids playing baseball in the field. The sun sinking slowly.
On my way in, I’d plucked a book from the sale rack in the children’s section. Free To Be A Family, a sequel to Free To Be You And Me, my favorite record album from childhood. The book flap describes it as a “joyful, moving, exuberant collection” that covers everything from the “fear of being different to the wish to feel safe in the global human family.” That is what I wish for us all, to feel safe in the global human family.
(Post 146 of 365)