ice, chicago 2008 by styleofafool
i can't stop thinking about the first photo.
spring winds. i brew a pot of nettle tea.
i spend the morning gathering pieces for my spring collection. moss and mushrooms and river stones.
in the afternoon i walk to the market. i take the path by the lake, still covered but crackling into parcels of ice. i can hear streams rushing below. soon, toes dipped in.
i come home with armfuls of fresh air and asparagus and spring greens for dinner. soon, a garden to call my own.
i find myself thinking about words already written, past pages. how i like the patterns of days, seasons. i don't mind that something i've written a few years ago still holds true for me now. i like the long view. i like that the small tumble of my day stays steadfast through. they connect, somehow: the long view comes from the small humble moments, not rushing them. i need a way to remember this. i need a new notebook.
