While wandering through the wintry woods at dusk, I unexpectedly stumbled headlong into a pocket of trembling bliss & crawled into its midst boldly nestling there as completely & thoroughly as I would have had it been my own sweet burrow. There is no tomorrow here. There is only the ephemeral refuge of Now so I warm my hands by a hearth & my feet in down booties; I wrap my body tight in a rich robe much too big for me. Happiness is such shivering fire! I. breathe. in. deeply. this small blessing, a fleeting toke & oh how I line my pocket with its intoxicating smoke. You smell warm, like home.
Photo and prose by Shehani Kay. Detail of Stained Glass at Tate Britain: Ervin Bossanyi (1891-1975), The Angel Blesses the Women Washing Clothes, 1938-43, installed 1947-8.
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