Goodnight friends! A little brighter, but still a pale, wet, scraped thin kind of light that makes me want to rub my eyes and squint. A pair of herons jousted over the reservoir in a series of awkward looping, stammering passes, their great rectangular wings cudgelling the air. The water below is marbled with greasy green slicks of algal bloom, capped by white wave-crests of fledged feathers. Pathways are edged in gangling young orange poppies and fresh drifts of daisy-white feverfew.
A sense of lingering pain and heaviness sticking to me the past few damp days, and with it a fixed sense of gloom, the wind-down to that euphoric period of creativity. I am still drawing daily, but not so much or to such a degree of completion, my wild streak of confidence seems to be drying up.
May we come to a deeper sense of peace and acceptance with things beyond our control today!
