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This knot is in a board second from the top in a fence that protects a small ravine in the marsh along the walkbike path. It is at eye level when I plop my foot on the board to stretch my hamstrings. It is lovely. The knot. The ravine. Not my hamstrings. I searched "what are knots in wood?" and found a description "a knot is a particular type of imperfection in a piece of timber which reduces its strength but which may be exploited for artistic effect." Okay. A sentence with exploit and artistic in it is wicked wrong, but can I warp that sentence into a metaphor for a knotty bit of life experience? "A knot is an opportunity to artistically effect a personal strength enhancement." Not sublime, but the gist is strong. Knots are nature's workaround. We are nature. We can work around.
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