Moonlight Beach in Crooked Hats
"Yet in our human relations we are outraged when the supreme moments, the moments of flowering, must be waited for...and then cannot last. "--May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude Every moment with a child is a first that will never be experienced again. How sad!, that we must pay attention to each twinkling, without distraction, to his each and every whim in order to savor the juice of a fruit that ripens to perfectness every day and then from the beginning the very next day again: however subtly changed. How, I ask, can one have time for meaningless undertakings when this is the highest priority, that which takes precedence over all else? To miss these ripe moments are a sin against the self, as how dare we eschew our holiest creation?