I went kayaking with a friend of mine today and had a blast. Sorry no photos. I was afraid of getting my camera wet and decided to be completely present in the experience instead. We kayaked two small calm lakes, followed a heron, and saw yellow breasted blackbirds. The air smelled of sage and algae. The basalt cliffs were painted with green lichen. D. and I shared our possibilities in order to bring them one step closer to realities. She is a real cool woman, D. Definitely a kindred spirit.
I took a nap when I got home, had breakfast at 8:30 pm and hung out by the fire. Even Maya smells of firewood smoke now. Yum.
Breakfast includes coffee and so its nearly 2:00 am and I am still charged. I've been involved in a favorite past time, following my bibliographic interests wherever they take me. Reading a passage here, a blog entry there, searching through previously read books for that one sentence that I just know I underlined...
A quote that I found after some searching:
A story begins at the margins. It's where we do our math. Where we check our spelling. Where we dream.
-Suheir Hammad (see previous post)
I also want to acknowledge three blogs that have caused me to think tonight:
One is by one of my favorite dear former profs, MTH, Born in the U.S.A.
The second is Body on the Line,
and the third is Pomegranate Queen.