i like it
i will do all of this
There is a certain quality of afternoon light this time of year. A warm, mellow, golden autumnal glow.
There is a way the light filters down through the trees, like all the energy and activity of a whole year stored in branches and roots and bark, suddenly burst forth in sunshine yellow brightness.
There is an excitement to this season of slow death. A vibrancy of newness and transformation.
* * *
Or hadn’t you noticed? Had you been too anxious, caught between a heavy past and an ambiguous future, limbs shaking and guts stripped bare? Had you been so nervously casting your wide net, trying to catch that glimmering, shimmering thing off in the distance, that you failed to see the gentle ripples you’d been making had turned to violent waves, arms thrashing, and you about to go under?
Me too, Friends. Me too.
really heart felt feelings
Sometimes I have too many feelings, Friends. Just all of the fucking feelings, like a bowl full of volatile liquid lodged behind my sternum, bumping up against my bruised and beating heart.
Dramatic, I know, but it really feels like that. And I really am that dramatic, too, so…
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i am speechless
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness . . .”
The drive back home to Seattle from Chelan was a wet, misty affair. But the low clouds clinging to the hillsides and mountainsides created a beautiful, moody atmosphere as I covered the miles. I drove Hwy 97-alt south along the Columbia River to Wenatchee, and then drove west on Hwy 2 over Stevens Pass in the Cascade Mountains. It’s a great fall drive with lots of color.
i love it