Of course I post that and get a message the next day complete with days and plans and everything.
It’s just the way things go.
Been reading poetry lately. And that book again. I’m almost sorry that I understand it so well. And I’m definitely sorry that I am so inarticulate. I got so good at saying things I didn’t care about in the correct way, and I never got the knack of saying those same things about what does matter to me, so although I feel a connection in such a basic, undeniable way, I can’t explain what I mean. Given the interpretations this material got from other people, I’m a little wary of even trying to express what I mean. I don’t want to find myself saying that nothing means anything. I don’t believe that. (do i?)
Then I think of my Wolf. And the moon I saw last night. And my thoughts turn down another direction and…in those eyes reflected is the red light from innumerable burning leaves, their sooty remains swirling like so much black snow.
No. We don’t want to go there.
Next on my to-do list: research flights.