When Life Is Too Much...

...get your walking shoes on.

Walk and walk and walk until your legs ache from going uphill. Drink in the view. Rejoice at the sound of the first peepers of the spring. Listen to the mourning of the whippoorwill. Find winter and spring intermingling, death and dryness joined to life and newness.

At the top of the hill, happen to meet an old, old farmer named Edie, whose ingenuity is as deep as the wrinkles around her eyes.

What else would you do with an old bathtub, pray tell?

"Come back anytime," she says.

Soak in the trees and the light and the sky and the hills until dusk falls and the colors fade.

Cross the tracks and go home, boneweary and heavy with peace.