You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen.
Here’s your morbid literary fact of the day.
When I won the Nobel Peace Prize, Willie Nelson came over to Oslo to perform “Georgia On My Mind.” Willie always invites me up on state to sing “Amazing Grace.” I have a very bad voice, and he generally turns the microphone away from me. But I’m up there.