This season... once again some combination of middle fork, flashing lights, and goodbyes; thunder or rain or both. leaning against the refrigerator or the back-hatch crying. some combination. some spiraling synchronicity. i just followed the 8's but who knows?

Day 1: I miss you.
But mostly I am just sorry. I wish I and the world would quit squandering the precious things; quit casting our gaze carelessly over all the riches we are free to enjoy, all the moments that are already perfect; quit destroying what is, for want of something more or better.

It's a fine line. There is much work to be done. Or maybe to be undone. Like the undammed Elwha with its salmon finally coming home. All we had to do was remove our doing. All we had to do was allow.

Tonight Carolyn and I sat with the sunset.  The western sky this summer keeps taking my breath away. The enormous orange sun and blinded me, as I looked toward you. You must have been looking at the splash of clouds too because I felt you close.

Well according to spell check, undammed isn't a word. But it will be. It will take undoing, and simply being, and allowing, and maybe even fighting but
I have seen concrete hearts crack, and love spill out years of suppressed tears, falling ceaselessly down as we stand at the bottom speaking fiercely to the mountain, out loud, I love you.

If I had religion, if I had one prayer, that would be it. Over and over tumbling down my heart and through my veins touching everything.

I face the mountains to say it once but like water it isn't just one, it is all, and it opens cracked concrete wide and fills the empty spaces, flowing.