I persist. I'm enjoying hot soup on this cool May evening. Planetary changes has us fried one day wrapped in a comforter the next. It's a strange era of plagues war and social chaos.

Yet we endure the Earth abides.

I don't understand the times nor seem to belong in them. Like my grandmothers both born at the end of the 19th century. The dolls represent them. One born in Mississippi one in Asia. They lived to see us fly. One lived to witness us go to the moon the beginnings of full Civil Rights Gay Pride parades, and the early digital age. Like them I feel a stranger in this even stranger land.

Like that book's title. "Still, I Persist in Wondering."