Make sure you have a porch

I don't mind at all living in a little apartment.  I like it better, I think, than a house.  A house doesn't feel as cozy or secure--not in a practical, "I think someone's going to break in and take all my stuff" way, but in an "I can't sleep without the blankets tucked in under my feet" way.  But I am very, very glad that my apartment has a back porch.

It's not much, and I guess it's not a great view, but I'm still a little bit in love with it.  Rooftops and power lines do have a kind of magic to them.  And unlike, say, Manhattan, here I can still feel--with the intermingled trees, and open sky, and chirping bird--that humans are a part of nature.  We just need to remember it.  I wrote a poem last semester about small cities that I think I'll include with my project.

Ah yes, my project.  Due Monday!  The freakout I'm suppressing is something I've kept out of this journal. This is a nature journal, a spirituality journal, not a "worrying about course work" journal.  But I posted a link on Moodle, so maybe some of my readers are classmates?  If so, maybe I should take this opportunity to say a word about my project.

I haven't worked out quite how to describe it, but basically my project is a companion piece to the course, in which I flesh out some of my tangental thinking on eco-spirituality and throw in some research to boot.  It will include this journal, at least in some form, with some additional essays on humanity and nature, and my own future ministry (yikes).  I'll PDF it as a sort of "book" and you'll all get to see the whole thing.

Oh, why the whole bit about the porch?  That's where I'm writing this.  I'm so glad for WiFi.