Purl, Interrupted

august in a nutshell

it's the last day of august and i haven't told you a thing. so what have we been doing this month?

-- spending time with out of town visitors (here is terry with our pal vicky, who was good enough to come visit from redwood city);

-- getting out and about with friends (here we all are on a recent bike ride);

-- fishing (here is tk with a cooler full o' fish ready for vaccum sealing after a big day in resurrection bay);

-- exploring the great outdoors (here we are on a hike from the eagle river nature center);

-- and lounging around.

bridge

I lived in the Twin Cities for six years and, like just about everyone I knew there, travelled on or under the I-35 bridge quite a bit. My friend Jay, alive and well in St. Paul today, sent around this poem yesterday.

There But for the Grace

It could have happened.
It had to happen.
It happened sooner. Later.
Nearer. Farther.
It happened not to you.
You survived because you were the first.
You survived because you were the last.
Because you were alone. Because of people.
Because you turned left. Because you turned right.
Because rain fell. Because a shadow fell.
Because sunny weather prevailed.
Luckily there was a wood.
Luckily there were no trees.
Luckily there was a rail, a hook, a beam, a brake,
a frame, a bend, a millimeter, a second.
Luckily a straw was floating on the surface.
Thanks to, because, and yet, in spite of.
What would have happened had not a hand, a foot,
by a step, a hairsbreadth
by sheer coincidence.
So, you're here? Straight from a moment still ajar?
The net had one eyehole, and you got through it?
There's no end to my wonder, my silence.
Listen how fast your heart beats in me.

- Wislawa Szymborska