Looking out on another hour of precipitation to the stone pathway, with the realization aside from flooding areas the wind blew leaf bare, and flooding areas the non-stop rain runs over mud and slippery rock, the stones of this path are not lined up acceptance that they are and acceptance that they are not
Growing up was a series of sleeping arrangements two parallel twin beds under the knotty pine finished slanted ceiling attic boards where we would make a game of finding pictures and make up stories out of the woods’ knots and on often humid summer eve’s when we should have been asleep we would wind open …
a short but rare drive to my favorite local wood fired pizzaioli, a rare outing in time of Covid, wanting to make the most of the experience away from home, so taking the slower streets, going through the neighborhoods lined with landscaped hedges, trees, in various shades of red, yellow, mustard brown, and dark green …
