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Dreams
I entered Union Station this morning to head first to NY and then on to Vermont for the Anusara Grand Gathering for the summer solstice. I admired for the several thousandth time how grand and extraordinary a space it is. As I looked up and around its lovingly crafted vastness, I thought of how we live in the samscaric wake of those who put their dreams, their hopes, and their pride in traveling from one place to another, believing that it was at the next place happiness would manifest. Then I thought, this is home and not just a place of departure and arrival. This grandeur is a space that is part of my every day.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Change of View (and the tree rebate program)
In October through early November, I have autumnal color right outside my bedroom window as the red maple in my front garden and the sugar maple in the tree box right in front of it, blaze into glorious color. Through the winter, the view is decidedly urban. I look right out at the apartment building across the street and must keep the venetian blinds down for privacy even during the day. If we get snow or an ice storm, I look out at branches gilded-jewel like with winter frost.
Only two weeks ago, there was only a hint of red and green on the two maples. Now they are in fresh, full leaf. Not only is my yard shaded, but my view is changed and my privacy veiled by a curtain of leaves.
These trees cool my house and the street, help make the air more breathable, provide needed habitat for birds, and give me the pleasure of their beauty. If you have space, consider planting a tree. Extra bonus, the District has extended its rebate program for planting trees on private property.
State of the Front Garden
The baby from the back garden 30-year old rose bush, blooming in the front (in a relatively shady place)!

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Found Quotations (“For Remembrance”)
In recent months, I have listened to the stories of a number of close friends and co-workers as they navigate the difficult process of saying their good-byes to the tangible, physical embodiment of a loved one and participating in the loved one’s own good-bye.
I find myself filled with memories of those I still love though the loved one is no longer embodied in the physical form in which I met them. For me and for those with whom I share my memories, they live on as such and. in greater and lesser amounts, in how I think, respond, and act to this day and beyond.




