“Sometimes a glance, a few casual words, fragments of a melody floating through the quiet air of a summer evening, a book that accidentally comes into our hands, a poem or a memory laden fragrance, may bring about the impulse which changes and determines our whole life. While writing this, the delicate resinous scent of Tibetan incense is wafted through the shrine-room of my little hermitage and immediately calls up the memory of the place where for the first time I became acquainted with this particular variety.”

The winter season is approaching and here in the Pacific Northwest the crisp cool days are upon us. The winds and rains have stripped bare the last leaves of the deciduous trees and the stately conifers have now come to the forefront. When we walk in the mornings up the hill from our home the grand view of the snow-capped Olympic Mountain Range is before us and sometimes, the sunrise illuminates the towering peaks with a brilliant warm light bathing them in an ethereal glow. The graceful and quiet season of the year is treasured by us along with all the other seasons. It is a time of celebration as well: celebrating the simplicity and sweetness that reveals itself when outer forms are reduced to their essential form as happens when the trees lose their leaves and their elegant forms stand out in their pristine beauty.