friday: waking feeling rested, the light around the window shades blue and cool.
there's a quiet and calm to everything, i sink down and pull the covers up, the patter of rain against glass making me chilly.
the black dog and i venture down the quiet little side streets, and i'm wearing that huge rain jacket.
(at first i feel a little silly, under the hood that almost covers my eyes, the sleeves rolled in huge bunches.)
but i lift out my arm, my palm, and feel the drops/we splash thru the ditches and wet grass.
the others are still sleeping in the house.
i eat warm food alone in the shadowy kitchen and the cinnamon and oats taste like autumn. the season seems so close suddenly, with the tastes and the cool air, so i dress in a light sweater of warm colors.
"august doesn't normally mean autumn" but on this morning when the rain falls down and a chill sets in, i almost believe this summer isn't infinite (and that's okay).
there is a good feeling in my bones. a motivation but an unhurried-ness at the same time.
i find myself cross legged on the bed, notebook and pen or guitar/(the things that help me breathe)