There is probably nothing more profound right now than being in the Santa Maria mountains along with each petal of blossom, each bud on every fruit tree, the golden opening oak leaves (the tree after which our village is named), the blazing dawns and cooling maroon sunsets – the logs on the woodstove, the local wine, the seeds planted in recently tilled ground, waiting, vibrating and preparing to erupt into the welcoming light.
We are here. We are still.
And that is probably reason enough to cease this Diary for a short while. A look back over its entries will reveal the highest attainment any individual human being might attain while here on earth.
