“This, then, is the extravagant landscape of the world, given, given with pizzazz, given in good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over.” –Annie Dillard

The mysterious world of night, far from the reasonable light of day in which we have been politely making apologies and expressing remorse to our partners and companions, confronts us with the gutsy and most difficult question of whether we can forgive ourselves.

There is a chickadee outside the window.  It has lighted on a slender branch of the nearly leafless bush and is turning its black-capped head this way and that while its little body dances briskly, feathers puffed against the chill.  The day is harsh. A bitter wind...