Walking through the silent streets, I remembered D’s beloved Zen expression: “No snowflake ever falls in the wrong place.” Even in this grim winter dawn, everything was as it should be, the snowflakes were falling without effort, all was calm and clear. In her book, she says: The flower fulfills its immanence, intelligence implicit in its unfolding. There is a discipline. The flower grows without mistakes. A man must grow himself, until he understands the intelligence of the flower.
