25 October 2012


"That one? That pillow is Della's."

Nigh on 2 and holy moly, language explosion time.
And moody.
And specific.
And inflexible.
And delightful.
So much person packed into that tiny body, oh my.

I'm watching clouds gather in wild waves up there,
lumps and wings, undulations...
worried about the confluence of coming storms as we head into next week.

The sky was bluest blue this morning, and the oak trees, truly, are showing off now that the maples have done there thing, and only a few yellow ash? beech? are holding leaves on the hillsides.

We are down to evergreens and oaks, mostly.
And crimson sumac.
And suddenly the anatomy of the hills is visible again.

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