Wind all night, and thunderstorms. I can think of no other purpose for disturbance than disturbance, in the same way you could think of the mind as the most obstinate refusal for its own liberation from itself. Aren't the tulip trees and Bradford Pear again in flower; and the dogwood and sweet- bay magnolia; and soon, the leaves and darkening syconia of the fig, drooping like fleshy sacs? You might say we've weathered and are weathering still. In the frenzy of rain or hail or the froth of seawater, what mouths tilt even more widely open? In the beginning, the mother goddess wept for all her children thinning to bone across the earth. One breast she milked for blood, another for salt; from the rest, rice pearls and blankets, tea, dollar bills, silk gowns and bread. But the billows don't stop; their hunger remains.