Diary

I stayed in all day while the wind kept howling and snow flurries blew past my window and I guess maybe the city came fitfully back to life again, but I never saw it.

I was busy chronicling a death for the radio, and attending to the process of the coming of new life.

The new life has been happening up north, and there were phone calls and text messages and whatsapps and lately a whole series of beautiful images that for now must stay private, but what has been striking me about the coming of life and the coming of death is much they are strangely alike.

Remembering the incredible intensity of those first steps towards death all those years ago, and living through the intensity of the steps towards new life, I'm struck by how they both push us past the boundaries of the people we think we are.

How they both end in release. How they both provoke tears.