for the well-wishes and the prayers for Tom, and the families who have been evacuated, and the firefighters still in the woods. Tom is home now for a break, and the smoke has blown out of the valley, and the sunlight today feels more like Fall than Summer.
I’m thinking of the last stanza of a poem by Mary Oliver, from the book Thirst (Beacon Press, 2006). It’s called, “The Place I Want to Get Back To,” and I quote:
If you want to talk about this
come to visit. I live in the house
near the corner, which I have named