It is enough.

As I have done every day here at the Visitor Center for six years, I've re-loaded the printer with sheets already printed on one side. Of course, every once in a while, fresh paper goes into the printer. How else would the 'reusable paper' box get replenished?

So really, half the paper we use to print off hard copy of daily weather reports and road condition reports so that we can post on bulletin boards is recycled paper. Since the remainder of my time I spend answering questions with information I've already stored in my brain and operating two cash registers using procedures I've memorized, you could say that I spend all my time recycling something or other.

That's not a bad way to describe a preacher who re-invents himself to become a kind of Interpretive Ranger - a Recycled Reverend.

Truth is that being recycled is more than enough, as Anne Alexander Bingham says in her poem -

 "It Is Enough"

To know that the atoms
of my body
will remain

to think of them rising
through the roots of a great oak
to live in
leaves, branches, twigs

perhaps to feed the
crimson peony
the blue iris
the broccoli

or rest on water
freeze and thaw
with the seasons

some atoms might become a
bit of fluff on the wing
of a chickadee
to feel the breeze
know the support of air

and some might drift
up and up into space
star dust returning from

whence it came
it is enough to know that
as long as there is a universe
I am a part of it.