Yesterday afternoon, while I was out in a windstorm, picking up debris from a windstorm the day before that, I was so impressed by the spread of deep, thick moss everywhere that I vowed to spend a lot more time outdoors with my shoes off — after the weather warms just a bit. This morning, though, I wonder if I should wait at all. The uncovered part of my face is used to winter weather, as are my hands. Why should my feet be deprived? Still, there is one thing that frightens me: I can come inside and be warm — just as I can retreat to the comfort of my everyday thoughts. And so maybe it would be better to strip myself bare, and stay out there.
January 23, 2020
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