9 Comments

I raise a glass of spring tonic to the sharing of dream-leavened lives

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May 6Liked by Caroline Ross

gosh, Caro, there's a wonderful challenge to being one of your subscribers: i'm constantly wanting to add something intelligent to the conversation, and constantly unable to come up with anything but another variation on "you make words pretty."

also—i dearly hope i get a chance to be a semi-itinerant library mouse someday, at least for a little while, once my kids are older.

glad your trip is going well, and wishing you continued safe travels.

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May 6Liked by Caroline Ross

Magical drifting thoughts. Love this piece.

Here is one of my favorite phrases you so casually toss out along the way, yet they can open the windows of heart and mind into rooms we have not yet explored, "but smuggled with it in my pockets was that strange cargo: dreaming. It weighs almost nothing but changes everything on which it alights..."

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May 6Liked by Caroline Ross

This was just the nudge I needed to get out into the rain to gather some beech leaves for this year’s noyau :)

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author

Yessssss. If you can do me a bottle I will pay you back for the gin! Got a feeling the Dorset beeches will be too far along when I get back, but maybe not. x

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Ohh. Must try this. Off to the woods!

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the Noyau is now infused (for about 6 weeks) and bottled. I didn't add the sugar syrup or brandy wanting to experience the natural taste. I guess I can add the in the mix when I create a glass.

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author

Yes, you can adjust to taste if and when you like. Let me know if you like it.

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May 7Liked by Caroline Ross

As I read Loose Ends, I could not help but think of Rene Daumal and his little book Mount Analogue.

He said,

"You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again.... So why bother on the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. In climbing, take careful note of the difficulties along your way; for as you go up, you can observe them. Coming down, you will no longer see them, but you will know they are there if you have observed them well. There is an art of finding one's direction in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least know."

So, we live by the memories of what we have come to know in those higher places. Perhaps more than by our present circumstance.

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