Traffic was at a standstill on the highway through Toquerville this morning. Two sheriffs and an animal shelter officer were trying to capture a pig who was on the loose.

I moved a cobblestone in the yard and found a western fence lizard attempting to stay warm on this chilly morning. I carefully replaced the stone and apologized for the intrusion.

If you can love a chicken, you should be able to love a human being, but things aren’t always that simple.

I describe my complexion as neonatal pig.

I have so many things to do, but my dog is sleeping on my lap.

I hated the wind when I couldn’t escape the wind. Now the wind is gone. I miss the wind. I love the wind.

Facebook, how would I watch two rescued prairie dogs eat grape tomatoes without you?

Isn’t this why we’re all here? To postpone our own and each other’s departures? From life, I mean. From life.

This stone-heavy ball of hope. This gravel-slick hill before me.

It’s easier to forgive the dead for what they’ve done than to forgive the living for what they’re doing.

That beating? It’s the rhythm of death but also the rhythm of life.

When you feel trapped inside rooms you didn’t willingly enter, I’ll draw clouds on the ceilings so you can remember the sky.

When they run, they run away. They are us or us in other bodies.

Your heart will speak to you one thousand times today. Let it.

It’s hard to find your way when you don’t know where you are, and that’s pretty much how I feel every day: lost and longing but also curious and free—moving instinctually toward where I think I need to go, who I need to be, what I need to feel, and what I need to do.

The terrible reality is that health is more expensive than disease in this country.

Dreamed I attended my own funeral. I looked good.

Terror and awe. The lulling sounds of those words. Terror. Awe. Terror. Awe. A swing twitching in winter’s wind. A wooden metronome on an upright piano. Gauzy drapes sucked into and spit out of an open window.

I did not tar hope’s feathers.

Euphoric from the propofol used in this morning’s colonoscopy, I flop into bed to dream of cake and human kindness.

I love every bird who is singing and every bird who is silent.