This cool breeze by the river bank. A great blue heron feeding in the shallows. The pilated woodpecker serenading the forest with its haunting song. I think I need one hundred days like this!   Slowly, ever so slowly. Here. Now. This! Bit by bit and little by little, I feel a twinge of what may be life. A steady erosion has happened in me. It’s taken time to do this damage. It will take more time to regain what’s been lost.     The locust have ravaged much I feel now. Sad stories, and far too many of them, have layered my heart with deep grief. I think I need one hundred days like this. But today, I just may have felt my heart again.   As I let this breeze wash over me, is this a baptism of love? And as silence does what only the deep quiet does, I sit here and stay here for a while this beautiful morn. Soaking. Marinating. Feasting . Healing.