It's hard to think of January as the beginning of the year. It always seems so very much the middle for me. Fall, a season that generally marks the end of things for most people, has always been my marker for the beginning of another year. I suppose that beginnings are always just a matter of perspective. The same can probably be said of endings as well. If I am resolved to do anything this year, it is to be more aware of the possibility of both. Life is more and more quicksilver to me with each passing year.