When the sound that makes the silence becomes to hard to hear.
When more effort is spent blocking out instead of taking in
The great silence will be lost.
Floating, shifting shapes,appearing and disappearing. Sometimes the life of a cloud seems just right.
Sometimes words add little.
Finding solitude in colors and quiet.
Many thoughts came to mind as we walked in a burnt forest.
What will the future hold as the world warms and rains dry up?
Fragility, resilience, life and death are here.
Why does it feel familiar yet so foreign all at once?
Many thoughts as we walked and many thoughts to this day.
A walk through a burnt forest felt like a metaphor for these time.
Dipping a toe in provided a little relief for a July that feels like August.
Water flows as birds sing.
The season’s move like water in the creek.
And around again.
So it goes.
Ah, So it goes.
Tides and clouds rolling in and out. Breathing.