Warm bench. Wood chips scuffed away from under my feet. Half a dozen different browned leaves and patches of detached trunk moss. Stems of varying lengths and widths. Chunk of orange peel. Something silvery. Tussocky grass a leg-and-a-half stretch away, quickly filling-in to make a springy, green clearing. Short, white-petaled flowers randomly distributed, then clumped together. Freckles on the lawn. Light, fitful breeze, cool when it blows through the soon-to-bud but still winter bare branches. Flicker of cars beyond a mix of trees. Some firs still green, cherries close to bloom. Ocean rumble of tires on asphalt, cresting in a revving motorcycle engine. Patches of blue overhead, but mostly wispy clouds, moving fast. More breeze. Storm coming.
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10,000 steps/day. Three cups of coffee/day. Lots of Kindle books/year. Archives
January 2023
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