The Fort Mudge Memorial Dump

I'd love to hear the rest of that mantra.

I know the place you're in, I've visited it often these days - too often for my taste. If it's any consolation, you're far from alone in this.

We're always around if you need someone to bounce things off of. As long as those things aren't rocks.

A poem that has been often in my mind as the spring blooms around us:

"THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS"
by Wendell Berry
When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.