Long after Thoreau's wild apples have withered and dried, we are so fortunate as to have a writer in America, with all its uproars in industry and technology, who keeps the dream of nature and its wild apples alive for us. How fortunate I was to encounter her and the apples that still bloom in her heart.
Sue's book has finally rested in my hands long after its writer rested in the dearest, unseen corners of my heart where very few people have ever entered. My name is heard here and there in this book like the breeze that passes over the grass or the leaves of the trees Sue speaks so beautifully of. This book is among the dearest gifts I have ever received in life. Something like the Masnavi which my dervish grandfather gave me.
Sue, I want to ask for your permission to do two things. First, if you allow us we want to make many copies of your book and distribute them among the many people who so entusiastically want to read it. And second I want to start another blog and call it "The Leaves of Life." It is because you have mentioned this name in your book making it very special for me. Another reason is that the organization of The Night Ocean has become a bit confusing. Letters are mixed up with many other things. If we go to the new blog I will transfer the precisous material from here to there and give them a better organization which will make it practically more helpful to the many people who visit it.
The gardens of my heart are full of the scent of many wild apples, Sue. I can never thank you enough for being so brave as to write this beautiful book and for sending a copy of it to me.
Ali
