The Boston Globe, February 17th, 1998
We are a week back from Florida and still not unpacked. What do I do? I study the glitter of old snow on the rock wall outside my window, the pattern of snow melt and shadow -- I imagine I can trace our dance around our sun on the snow -- and admire the stubborn beauty of the scraggly sticks of weeds that will not give in to winter. I don't want to hurry spring, rush through my unpacking, even stop for lunch. I just want to lower myself into this moment, sit, look around, listen, pay attention. The other day I talked to Pat Sullivan, who had finished a series of radiation treatments, and she t...
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