She used to ask herself, What more could I wish? But she always distrusted that question, because she knew there were limits to her experience that precluded her knowing what there was to be wished.

Who I am, is who you are

White wheel barrows and wood piles
Earth worms and speckled trout
Sawdust and grease
Salt air and spice
Fresh cut grass and gasoline
Apple blossoms and Marsh roses
Beach glass and lost bottles