The Man here made a table with his (still beautiful) hands. The tree guy had sliced off a few rounds of hickory from an old tree. "These pieces are ok", he had said.
Frosty mornings here, but still stuff lives.
The cold was sudden. A bit warmer today, but the chill, the feeling in my bones , now that I am older, such a reminder of my own seasons.
I have been dreaming a lot.
There is nothing like deep dreaming for clearing your head. I think that's what it is for. All tangled up like a tumbleweed and then blown away by the wind. Space.