The leaves have begun to change in earnest and I thrill to the frost on the wind.
I dug up my potatoes…it wasn’t a great batch this year, but I will try again next.
I can’t seem to get enough of Walt Whitman…his Song of Myself keeps rattling against the insides of my skull and I prefer his vocabulary to mine.
I had a dream that I knit a scarf that reached to Patagonia (the region, not the store)…not sure what that means.
I’ve taken to making peppermint tea in the afternoons. It’s nice. I like it.
My morning have been starting slow. I tend to linger and snuggle that fluffy dog-o-mine and daydream under the flannel sheets longer than I should. It feels so decadent.
Forgotten memories have been popping up in the most random and unexpected places. Not bad. Not good. Just oddly nostalgic.
I killed one of my succulents. It turns out that even desert plants need water on occasion.
I did a sunrise hike at Bradbury Mountain and realized I forgot my camera. So I was just still. And it was beautiful.
How about you? What have you been up to lately?