« Home | Days of 1903 I never found them again -- the thin... » | Voices Ideal and beloved voices of those who are ... » | Hidden From all I've done and all I've said let t... » | When they are roused Try to guard them, poet Howe... » | as much as you can Even if you cannot shape your ... » | "the rising of the spring stirred a serious, mysti... » | "this perfect quiet settled into their house after... » | "when she had been married a little while, she con... » | "it seems that my grandmother did not consider lea... » | "a little too much anger, too often or at the wron... » 

11 December 2007 

"but sylvie had fallen silent again. guessing that she must be listening to something, we were silent, too. the lake still thundered and groaned, the flood waters still brimmed and simmered. when we did not move or speak, there was no proof that we were there at all. the wind and the water brought sounds intact from any imaginable distance. deprived of all perspective and horizon, i found myself reduced to an intuition, and my sister and my aunt to something less than that. i was afraid to put out my hand, for fear it would touch nothing, or to speak, for fear no one would answer. we all stood there silently for a long moment."

housekeeping, pg 70