moonlight fills the space
between the ripples
That's all I wanted when I returned home yesterday from the backpacking trip with my co-workers. I just wanted to fall into his arms and have him rock me back and forth and tell me, yes, someone understands me.
Instead, I return to a phone message: he is somewhere in deep Texas, crossing the country on a train.
I don't know why I feel so alone lately, detached from the present in general, as if I'm going through the motions but not really living most of it. Up late last night, dreaming of traveling and being somewhere where the leaves change color…
in the frying pan
This morning, I fleshed out my dream: driving through Oregon to visit first Jen, then Soren, and last Elizabeth. Maybe finding a place to live in Portland. The thought of being in a beautiful place with my girl friends makes me smile. As the day wears on, it sounds more and more like something I could call home.
a stack of warm pancakes
syrup spilling over
But for now, home is here in Sequoia National Park. It storms every afternoon and we are always caught during work on the trail in a downpour. It's nice this weekend to be at my cabin, hearing the thunder far away, like hearing his train roll down the tracks, far away. Today I am safe from those raging storms.
a snake emerges
from its skin