Observation #19, 12/4

(Theme: Paranoia)

Things of Which I am Regularly Afraid:

Bridges. Falling in cars. Unmarked lanes. Broken lights. Broken glass. Needles. Pins. Tacks. Staples. Nails. Air pressure. Water pressure. Depth. Unseen things. The dark side of the street. Walking alone in the morning. Walking alone to school. Walking alone on trails with the trees pressing in. Walking alone near roads and cat calls. Walking alone in the evening. Walking alone at night with the 2AM drunks and their stale breath and their bloodshot eyes. Walking alone with the silence and stilldark of early morning. Walking alone unarmed. Walking alone looking like a woman. Walking alone.

Observation #12, 11/1

(Theme: Gain)

The things I vow to take from this day:

1. The warmth of the sun on my face as it passes through glass, how it arcs over my forehead and cheekbones, igniting my hair, plunging my philtrum into shadow.

2. Every shifting shade of blue that crosses the sky between varying grades of cloud.

3. The green of the pine branches behind the red blush of deciduous behind the white froth of fall flowers behind the course grey rust-streaked face of dry stone.

4. The stark, clean white of birch bark.

5. The shiver of the canopy.

6. Meandering trails no one is meant to walk between fallen trunks and peaty wetlands, the light on the surface of the lake.

7. The lift of leaves in small circles, stirring, settling – the wind is dancing.

8. The promise of words and quiet and the steam rising in curls: herbal smoke from sacred spells and mugs of tea.

9. The warmth of a hand in mine.