Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl

Doug Wilson's son, N.D. Wilson, wrote a book called "Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl." Patrick bought it a few weeks ago but hasn't been able to start on it because of school. So I picked it up. I've never read any of his work before but this is really good. His way of writing is so clever and interesting. This is what I just read.

"It's cold tonight, and my mind is to small to grasp the world, tired from trying. I could walk back outside and stare at the stars, those tiny, twinkling, huge, spherical firestorms, but more clouds have rolled in behind the blizzarding herd that only just left.
Tomorrow, according to the weather prophet, these clouds will crystallize and turn into six-pointed haiku, kaiku like you've never seen, each subtly different, each capturing a different mood, a different beauty. Each priceless, a divine word.
If I were infinite, I could read and love each one. I could remember the dance of each flake since the world was born.
But I'm not infinite. And so I keep a shovel for when the haiku falls, a bag of salt to fend off the whispering storm."

Doesn't that such sound like you'd want to read the rest of the book? Well it makes me want to!