"Anyone who feels like a fool has made a good beginning," says Mason Cooley, a man I knew, who left a memory of self-sufficient, kind intelligence.

It snowed yesterday. The snow started as dots, progressed into cascading flowers shaken from some great bush in the forest of the sky. It rained flowers for hours, then thinned back to dots, tiny stars, then ended. For all the time, most didn't stick, except on the trees, which became grandparents in one afternoon. "Look," my wife said, pointing me out the window, "the whole world's pussy willows." And it was.

This morning the world's grizzled, a scarred sailor who has seen seas of winter we wouldn't believe. Swathes of close-cropped snow on the brown lawns, striped by shadows. The trees look even more isolated in their stoic grandeur.

If being reduced to just taking notes as I peek out of the mouse-holes of my eyes at this wintery rock we're all riding on is a sure sign that I know who's in charge and that makes me one of the fools of nature, I'll take the title gladly. In fact, I'll put on that crown with my own hands.

Allan DiBiase
3/17/2013 12:00:39 am

Fond memories of Mason.

"Any fool can make a rule, and any fool will mind it."


One might be thought a fool to love a tree,

---and that would be me,



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