i am comfortably coaxing fragments of a past self, into the present. crescent eyelids, closing. a slow exhaling. two hummingbirds hover by the kitchen window, bathed in the rose-gold evening glow of southern california, in late october. coconut dahl simmers on the stove. i am softly falling, i have waited for this.
touch deep time. this desert night is silver-tinged, and silent. you climb dust ladders into the light and i am early morning freeway speeding, west through the mojave. just a beaming string of refulgent headlights piercing two inky infinities. we are all suspended somewhere in-between.
non-exhaustive, list of lovely little things to be grateful for // golden raspberries farmers markets sweet peas churchbells harebells earl grey forget me nots wisteria trellises palo santo the smell of jasmine peppermint tea tulsi finger sandwiches abalone shells pistachio ice cream fairy lights singing bowls wildflowers moroccan lanterns cherry blossoms cups and saucers porridge with butter and brown sugar lilac turtleneck jumpers jam on toast christmas stockings maltese dogs tealights sourdough bread steaming bowls of soup chai tea well worn persian carpets pyjamas just pulled from a tumbledryer peter pan collars curly hair the silence after snowfall labradoodles! adonis blue butterflies stained glass sparkling wine chestnuts kaleidoscopes opals ugly squash! hanging crystals rose gold evening glow coconut dahl japanese sugar maples in autumn dark chocolate sparklers the northern lights dew drops purring cats/a litter of kittens french pastries berets wild strawberries magnolia trees afternoon tea teapots grandfather clocks ginger cordial watercolours heirloom tomatoes snowdrops silk shirts fireflies and music boxes