‘The question for us now is to be or not to be,’ Volodymyr Zelensky told the British Parliament in a video call on Tuesday, speaking in Ukrainian. ‘This is the Shakespearean question. For 13 days, this question could have been asked. But now I can give you a definitive answer. It’s definitely yes, to be.’

~New York Times

Last night’s snowfall in a thin covering of the grass. Morning, the clock sprung forward an hour. A slow start. It’s a swim I want. Ice on the doorstep. Still, the pool is inviting. I have plenty of energy for a mile swim and leave feeling strong and satisfied. My youngest ends up taking the dogs out while I work at my desk; need to get my monthly newsletter out, and a short essay written to go with it, and I stay at my desk until that is done. People in my house seem extra sleepy today, having lost the hour, and there are nappers all resting here and there. There is heartbreak and tragedy, outrage and senseless cruetly and suffering filling the news space today. An American journalist, Brent Renaud, killed by Russian forces in Irpin while filming the plight of the Ukrainians. And the assault of the Russians nears the Polish border. President Zelensky says it’s only a matter of time before Russian missiles fall on NATO territory––then, what? One amazing thing: watching video clips of Zelensky on the street, in the hospital, out of his office visiting soldiers. With a target on his back––fearless. Perhaps not fearless. Fearful, perhaps, and undaunted. The moon is waxing in the winter/spring sky. I look up as we leave our friend’s house tonight after dark. On the cusp of the Spring Equinox Friday it will be full.