17 below on Sunday morning. Neck warmer up over the mouth and nose on the morning walk. Snowflakes sting the eyes when walking into the wind.
Cry of a hawk from a grove of pine trees. Owl sitting on a branch near the back field...watching.
I hear the wind flow, and I feel that it was worth being born just to hear the wind blow.
Fernando Pessoa
Zen page-a-day calendar
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