I am dying to see, hear, write something beautiful. There’s this feeling in my spirit that is craving something transcendent. I can’t quite name this feeling; it’s really beyond my words.

Maybe I’m feeling this way because I’m still a little sick and my ears are clogged up so I feel like I’m living in that blessedness that sometimes comes with a snow of heavy flakes.

Maybe I’m feeling this way because I have watched far too many hours of television in my convalescence of the past few days; maybe I want something that doesn’t happen in 60 minutes.

Maybe it’s the impending re-approach of spring. Maybe the music (especially Brett Ryan Stewart) that I’ve been immersing myself in all day.

Maybe it’s the birth of the words and ideas for this book coming to life in my spirit, too nascent to be birthed but definitely living . . .

Whatever it is, it’s driving me forth to wander the farm today, slowly with an ear to what whispers through the muffle and an eye to the new or at least newly seen.

May you feel the birth of beauty for yourself today. That is my prayer.

Purple Finch