I'm lying on my bed. On top of a pile of clean laundry, because what else is clean laundry for, but to lie on top of and enjoy its smell?
And I'm marveling at how walking under low hanging branches backlit by late-summer-sun feels more like a blessing than anything I've ever before known.
And how much sadness there can be in new starts. Because something else is lost--a something that's already blurry and unnameable--a shadow in one's peripheral vision. But it's there and you know it's there and it's hard, nonetheless, the walking away from it.
And that's all I've got. Happy September. (I think it's gonna be a good month). xx