Thursday, August 28, 2008

AUGUST 29, 2002

The sun is a dim bulb this morning. Haze and greyness thick enough to flow, almost. Perhaps I exaggerate. There is a greyness; the sun will win its battle, but not immediately.

How much can you notice? Can you observe the same piece of ground for several years and still find something new to say? I would offer this challenge to everyone who wishes to write carefully.

An explosion of birds off the driveway as I walk to the car. Heavy dew. Sunlight breaks through. Moisture restores everything.

Fog in the country again, a quarter mile visibility in some places - heavier in this trees, less at ground level. Patchy, dense fog, they say on the radio. Patches, patches, patches, that's how life is stitched.

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