lost time


oil on linen


While I painted I listened to the first volume of “In Search
of Lost Time” by Proust. I admit, I couldn’t quite make it
through the next volume, but I let countless detailed memories
wash over me as I looked into those deep woods, and I got a little lost myself.

There are little cabins slowly sloping groundward all over
New England, filled with memories of country retreats for
city-weary folk. This little building, I learned, was once the
honeymoon cabin of the farmers who owned the property.
It was preserved by a loving Vermonter at the owner’s request,
and it may make it through a few more winters yet.

When it is over,
I want to say:
all my life I was a bride
married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking
the world in my arms.

–Mary Oliver
from “When Death Comes”