Other pieces of insight and wisdom found that don’t fit in a Poem nor Photo.

Why must

Poems be about sadness and about death often. Why not just about days. When things are ok not great. Fine not dandy. So I got bit by a tick. And I feel sick from vaccine. And I can’t move much. But I still do love the sun. Even when it just burned my legs

Deck; a verb and not just a noun

To deck: lay around in paralyses by the beauty

Welcome to some notes on my life. This life. Now and lately. It’s a thing I don’t do much, i.e. write notes on my life but my deck, our deck, The deck, calls for it.

It’s where so much of living is right now. By 10a sun is blazing. Birds are making noise. Freeway, meh, ya, it’s there but not annoying enough to stay away from the soaking of this

Love it

I had to put up the umbrella to even type this. You can be awake as ever and then sit amongst these trees and breeze and rays and bzzt, you’re done. Can’t do. Just sit. Soak. Breathe. It’s a dry-jacuzzi feeling. A yay this just is bliss feeling. A don’t wanna won’t do anything feeling. And thankful for it.