It’s finally cool enough and dry enough for a godsdamn cup of coffee in my backyard before the rest of my day begins. Thermostats in the house haven’t read below 80°+ for months.
On a more serious note, with the cooler, Autumn weather comes much more clarity and sanity, as it always does. It’s amazing and terrifying and a lot of not-fair feeling. And sometimes, sometimes has me thinking that I should do like the snowbirds do but instead of fleeing the cool weather, I should fly towards it; live in places where it’s always autumn and winter. But then I would never get to see the cherry blossoms and that just makes me too sad to think past that initial thought. The Kanzan Sakura that Gary and I planted in our tiny, yet fairly private backyard. The Weeping Snow Fountain we planted in our equally tiny front yard.
This heat, this homicidal weather, this constant barrage to my bipolar brain from the outside in, it conspired with so much shit already going on right around the eleventh thirteenth. So much so that I found it impossible to process a bit of writing on or even near the day.
Things are clearer, now.
Relationships are clearer.
My brain, clearer.
So for beauty, my kanzan sakura and my weeping snow fountain and every other sakura blossom that gives me strength, I stay in New York.
And if I remember, perhaps when I get home from work tonight, I’ll spend a little time enjoying hammock life.
The Salty Widow 