Even if all the trees were pens and the ocean ink, backed up by seven more oceans, the words of God would not be exhausted. — Qur’an 31:27
Another late Sunday evening, but a good one. Indeed, a weekend of good late evenings, ripe with meaningful conversation and encounter. And the days, too, have been lush, but with work — for job, for school, for life. And while others lament the coming winter, I am finally, quietly, defiant, like the blazing colors of the autumnal trees. November has always been my favorite month, and not simply because it is my birth-month. The manifold colors reveal underlying unities, and with them, new focus.