In The End, Enough

Every day, no matter what else happens, I drive by the Potomac River and we talk to each other. Every day, no matter what else happens, the weeds along the ramp to the T.R. Bridge are growing and leafing out and pulling energy from the soil. Every day, no matter what else happens, I come home, I sit on my rock, and I converse with the trees and plants here, on my bit of Earth.

And, in the end, that is, indeed, enough.

May it be so for you.