Sometimes I spend all day trying to count the leaves on a single tree. To do this, I have to climb branch by branch and write down the numbers in a little book. So I suppose, from their point of view, it's reasonable that my friends say: What foolishness! She's got her head in the clouds again.
But it's not. Of course I have to give up, but by then I'm half-crazy with the wonder of it--the abundance of the leaves, the quietness of the branches, the hopelessness of my effort. And I am in that delicious and important place, roaring with laughter, full of earth-praise.