Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
― Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends
Image updated 2014-02-02
By someone’s arbitrary measurement, another cycle of this planet’s revolution has just ended. So, depending on which hemisphere you inhabit, the new year starts either during the depth of winter or the height of summer. But perhaps you more sensibly celebrate the commencement of spring? Or maybe fall is the ideal occasion to signal the Earth’s renewal? But if you’re truly smart and not a square, the year only begins during convention season.
I was a wall,
and my breasts were like towers;
then I was in his eyes
as one who brings peace.
– Song of Solomon 8:10 (New Revised Standard Version)