I’ve been called to the kitchen window today. It’s a large window with a view northwest toward the Pacific, into the mouth of winter storm creation. The first call was upon waking, then many more while cooking breakfast. Again while cooking lunch. More times throughout the day than I care to admit. I am restless. I know the clouds are moving quickly because the wind is tossing around the climbing rose arbor, shaking it to its roots, threatening to topple the entire structure and what I imagine following as the setting free of a thousand ruffled-edge flowers in a cloud of silken yellow confetti — poof.
Such a show would be stunning against the backdrop of this ominous sky. So many shades of grey, each one a pocket of guesses. It is undeniably spring.
Ah, here comes a surprise afternoon shower.
Listen: BICEP | GLUE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7ZxRs45tTg
Much love to all.
Flavors: Bitter, Bread, Cacao, Camphor, Forest Floor, Fruity, Herbs, Medicinal, Mineral, Mint, Mushrooms, Rainforest, Round, Smooth, Wet Earth, White Grapes
Ah, so you are a poet, a writer. Thank you for taking me away for a moment there, I needed the escape.
Oh good. Some moments are tough. Glad I could help.
Indeed ashmanra wrote it right. I used all my imagination to imagine that view in California, where I never have been to. I feel like I really need to run away from this shit world, but actually I can’t even escape the country.