of the tree transforming it into a lacy magenta wonder. These flowers are showy, light magenta pink in color, appearing in clusters on bare stems before the leaves, sometimes on the trunk itself. The entire heartland lights up. We all know that the dogwood blossoms will arrive momentarily.
When the mountain brook in night's
stillness tells of its plunging
over boulders . . . .
The oldest of the old follows behind
us in our thinking and yet it
comes to meet us.
That is why thinking's holds to the
coming of what has been, and
is remembrance.
To be old means: to stop in time at
that place where the unique
thought of a thought train has
swung into its joint.
Martin Heidegger
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