on a trip to our cabin.
Sometimes the Glacier Lilies are blooming,
and all is peace and birdsong and rattlesnakes.
I find that a chunk of the roadbed
has been almost completely washed away by recent rains.
with the inevitable transitional melancholy
as I never know
what these steep, prickly hills
and my solitary self
will offer, suggest or demand,
always seems a good idea when I'm at home
where distractions are everywhere.
might remember that I do try to limit myself,
for experience has taught me
that too many choices
actually makes makes it harder
to settle in.
several things from the pile
I still arrived with more than I could handle
and ended up storing a couple of things in the car
so I wouldn't see them.
that what I really needed
was to wander around in my muck boots
between rain storms
to spinning the last of the yarn
for this project.