Excerpt from Born Of Fire

Here is the excerpt from my book, Born Of Fire: A Yearlong diary of Transition:

I lie awake early in the predawn darkness contemplating if I should get out of my warm nest to meditate or continue to snuggle in with my thoughts. I sense the raw November cold outside the window overlooking the sweeping lawn and on down to the shore of Lake Bomoseen, Vermont. There is a good chance that I will catch a glimpse of the small deer herd browsing on the downed acorns that were shed by the ancient oaks a few weeks ago. I especially like to watch the deer in the moonlight. But the moon is dark now. My thoughts roll on through my mind like ocean waves rolling in on a sandy shore. Gently they roll in, wash up on the beach of my consciousness, and then wash back out disappearing into the vast sea of thought.
Just yesterday, I walked with my dog, Duffy, a Welsh Terrier, along the lakeshore. There were large holes of open water especially on the north shore. The ducks have gathered here for their last watering hole until they are forced to leave to seek open water elsewhere. They cling to each last oasis of open water in the vast pool of frozen whiteness. They fly to a hole, then swim to the icy edge, which is just slush right now. Then they push their way through the mushy ice to the next hole leaving behind a trail, which will freeze in intricate lacy patterns like follow-the-dot drawings.

I hope you like it. I will post some parts of it from time to time.
Cio