There are serendipitous glimpses of perfection in an imperfect world. Days in mid-summer when the slightest shift in the air is a harbinger of change. I felt that today on a short walk just to the end of my street. And in those brief moments, I drew within and felt a sublime peace. As if all the memories from my life bathed me in a beneficent way... And in that moment, Healdsburg was perfection--unblemished by greed and fights over control and unchanged in spirit from its grandest moments of connectedness and immense generosity.
Perhaps it was the sweet scent of evergreens. Or my childhood memories of Reno at my grandmother's... Or the oral history I'm writing on Clarence Ruonavaara remembering Smitty's First Battalion...
But it is still and all is right. And this moment shall pass just like all the others. We do have a lot to be grateful for right here in such an imperfect world...
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