There you were, and it was like spring
(a poem by Mary Oliver)
There you were, and it was like spring--like the first fair water with the light on it, hitting the eyes. Why are we made the way we are made, that to love is to want? Well, you are gone now, and this morning I have walked out to the back shore, to the ocean which, even if we think we have measured it, has no final measure. Sometimes you can see the great whales there, breaching and playing. Sometimes the swans linger just long enough for us to be astonished. Then they lift their wings, they become again a part of the untouchable clouds.