Feels like,
Morning. A gentle taste of coffee with a vision to the future.

Night. The end of all things. A slumber to the past.

After reading the entire Internet
A hummingbird appeared, hovering
Between me and my screen
It whispered
Do it again

2024-02-17 ... snow, beginning again

I wade in the lake just outside of the designated swimming zone.
My feet are numb, it’s February and 75 degrees in the sun before noon.
The tingling should subside soon- I burn my tongue on coffee I made over the fire three hours ago.
A black bird with a white beak laughs at me, their friends join in.
It dips and dives, I wonder if it’s ever numb from the cold.
Sitting on top of the table my feet dangle to dry.
One hour and about twenty minutes driving home.
It’s never felt so good to be alone.

A child nearby screams from the edge of the water
“mom can I put my head under water?”
-“No that’s not a good idea. Did you find any sticks?”