Late last night, at around midnight, we rode bikes far out into the marsh over the rain-slicked wood jetties. Heat lightning over the sound and the ocean, and the tall grass lit and the sea did too and it all went on forever.

Here's a poem's been on my mind lately. 'Wild Geese' by Mary Oliver...

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despa...