2011
Winter of deer and foxes, fog and snow, frozen-in-time hours by the window to the woods. The Secret History, new work, New York.
Spring of loss. First blossoms and a bitter flight across the Pacific. Lonely, nervous weeks in Australia. Rainbows, crystals, fish&chips, and books in bed.
Summer of storms, of the Virginian heat, of wind whipping through hair. Lightning, thunder, crash-pangs of the heart. Of swimming, picking wild raspberries barefoot and tearfully leaving the Deerling Woods for the last time.
Fall of *crushing heartbreak, of finally beginning to let go of a love, of being caught by gentle friends with good hearts. Of driving south to see them again and again and again. Drink-addled bliss; the cold, churning ocean; crisp northern stars. Repeat from *.
And now entering Winter again willingly, memorizing poetry, studying the night sky, nurturing little window plants, nurturing a little beating heart. The beautiful and terrifying promise of more life to come. Learning over & over, forever & ever.
