For whatever reason there are the occasional moments when I smell the forest just like when I first came. Most of the time my appreciative continues, but my senses are accustomed to the locale. Maybe it was the warm day, maybe it was my activity today getting my senses more sharp. I don’t know. Whatever it was, it came as I was walking back into the house, with a freshly barbequed cob of corn, and a couple of hamburgers (yes, I know, not typical monastic fare). I was near the door, and the aroma of trees, of nature, of dirt, of the wild lands came wafting by, the same exact strong scent I noticed when ever I come here after long times away.

It was wonderful, it was a moment, unbidden, of appreciation. The stars above shine bright, and I stopped to notice them again as well, the dead pines in front making the deck a beautiful place to gaze upwards.

I felt groggy all day. Though, to my credit I didn’t let it affect me, indeed I pressed onward, for the most part, seeking to do what was positive throughout.

Beginning the other day my entire mood turned, from a wistful depression to a more industrious active state. I can mark the change, the moment some books came which are helping me learn new fields. New fields which I never had interest in before, yet see some measure of light.

I hold on to the goal, despite the shaking and whipping about it causes.

Now, though, my grogginess turns to a mild headache, my eyes are sore, and my skin is a little red (from sun that is). I pressed on, and now is the time for rest. Yet I am bothered by the fact that I had a whole thought I was wanting to pursue. Some other time. The Sabbath has come, and I’m for bed.