There's an older gentleman who lives down the road from us. I don't know him, but he has a wooden sign on this property that he changes about once a week or so, with a quote on it, usually just three or four words. Typically, it's a literary quote and our family has good fun checking the sign when we drive past, seeing who knows the reference. One of us almost always does, but once in awhile we have to "google it" to figure it out. (One was a rather obscure A. E. Housman poem...that one had me stumped for a day or two...)
I always want to stop and tell this man how much we enjoy his little roadside treat, but he doesn't seem to be the type who wants company. His house sits back off the road, with a long winding drive, set apart from the road by a gated and locked fence. Funny how he chooses this little way to share himself with the world,when clearly he's a man who doesn't seem to want to interact much. We see him, once in awhile, near his home, tromping around with his dog and that's about it.
Good enough. Clearly, he's found his own little piece of paradise and likes it just fine the way it is. It is ironic, though, how much impact this "isolated" man has. Makes me think about the power of silence, choosing our words carefully, and being simple in what we say. Obviously, this man has figured that out.
The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.