Emily Dickinson, a recluse but her hut was her universe.

You walk along, see somebody you half know; you put your head and don't acknowledge them;
or you do an Emily Dickinson and think...

"They might not need me -- yet they might --
I'll let my heart be just in sight --

A smile so small as mine might be
Precisely their necessity"

On 'fame', for Dickinson it was an 

'...incense beyond necessity.'

On the seasons cycle: 

The neighbors do not yet suspect!

The Woods exchange a smile!
Orchard, and Buttercup and Bird --
In such a little while!
And yet how still the Landscape stands!
How nonchalant the Hedge!

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Thank you Emily.

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