I have not succeeded this week in having a genuine day of Shabbat. But I did get a good reminder that Good News, in its simplest and everyday form, is also stripped of human elaboration. It’s good to let it be simple.

Quick stop at Broad Arrow Farm • Naturally, their motto “Do you know where your food comes from?” reminds me of this. 🙂

Meghan’s random book grab today. I figure the subtitle could just as well have been “A Brief Jaunt Through Human History.” Or even “A Brief Jaunt Through My Own History.” 🤓

From the epigraph: “To every kid with a little daydream and every grown-up with a big idea …”

“Mournful punditry” — Some thoughts from this week.

📚Happy New Book in the Mail Day! Celebrate accordingly

“This dual commitment to a single origin and a pluralized manifestation of moral living characterizes Bretherton’s approach.”

Werntz’s worthy critique notwithstanding — what, after all, is wrong with “squinting very hard,” and don’t we end up doing that anyway? — I’m definitely ordering Bretherton’s book. And checking out his “Listen, Organize, Act” podcast.

I love Jennifer Roberts’ phrase “the formative powers of delay”.

   …Patience

comes to the bones

before it takes root in the heart
as another good idea.

     — Mary Oliver

John Adams:

Power always sincerely, conscientiously, de tres bon Foi, believes itself Right. Power always thinks it has a great Soul, and vast Views, beyond the Comprehension of the Weak; and that it is doing God Service, when it is violating all his Laws. Our Passions, Ambition, Avarice, Love, Resentment &c possess so much metaphysical Subtilty and so much overpowering Eloquence, that they insinuate themselves into the Understanding and the Conscience and Convert both to their Party.

Photo by Kosti Ruohomaa in his and Lew Dietz’s 1977 essay-photo collection Night Train at Wiscasset Station.

I was recently reminded of Richard Wilbur’s poem “Love Calls Us to the Things of This World,” which reminds me of this photograph — which reminds me of Wilbur’s poem.

At some point I’d love to say more about what is surely one of the best books about Maine there is.

For over a week, whenever I open Richard Wilbur I have been unable or unwilling to turn the page past his poem “The Event.” This is a pleasant and frequent dilemma. 🙂

Delighted with myself and with the birds,
I set them down and give them leave to be.
It is by words and the defeat of words,
Down sudden vistas of the vain attempt,
That for a flying moment one may see
By what cross-purposes the world is dreamt.