It’s Monday morning. Start of a long week, is what I was thinking. But I will scratch that. Just: start of the week, and it will be a good one. There will be texture, and there will be calm. Going to make a list, and keep it rational. I will seek out the texture of things, make time to process and consider, and I will create calm. Here we go (calmly).
Birds in the Bright Blue
A late afternoon walk on the beach. The sights, sounds and scents of the ocean always bring a sense of wonder, relief, and replenishment. On this particular day, birds filled the sky, chaotically flowing this way and that. Just had to take a seat on the sand, look up, and enjoy the show.
Theater of Fall
An extended run at the theater of Fall. On a cold morning, when the park is mostly empty, especially in its deeper reaches and hidden away nooks of tree groves and patches of leaf strewn grounds, you can walk upon this stage and give a listen to the performances of the past. The curtain may have fallen, but the show must go on, at the theater of Fall.
Comings and Goings
Comings and goings in a fleeting stretch of a moment on a perfect day.
The ways in which a cold front inspires bridges of reaching, if only for a moment.
A Refuge of Silence
A refuge of silence, for the ice, for the wind, and for all those who follow the winding trail and find it.
It Always Comes Back to the Sea
Not the ocean. When I was there, it was clearly not that, but looking at the photo later, I realized it could be. It always comes back to the sea.
Also, the fog was rolling forth, revealing only a hint of the over there. That’s a solid representation of how I was feeling both then, and now. Of course it’s only been a few days, though I imagine it will remain this way for the foreseeable future.
Anyway, carrying on with more writing in 2023.
Remembering Things Will Connect
Remembering things will connect
where, or how you expect,
and you will likely
see it until years
and years later,
time and time
To The Blue, To the Gray
To the blue
to the gray
to the day