Jumbled Landscapes
An ache blooms somewhere inside me as I see houses dotted with holiday lights and glass bulbs hanging on bare branches at the same time that I realize it is time to move on. I pass houses and look at the sun lacing through the trees and wonder what it might be like to be here during the summer. I pass a yellow van and think of how I told you last month that it would be fun to have a van like that and drive across different landscapes. I take pictures of the street using my new photo app that doesn’t show me the pictures right away and allows them to develop first. I slip my phone back in my pocket hoping I caught the light just right. I return home through the front door and turn on the kettle to use the last spoonfuls of my coffee grounds. I am a jumble of longing, stillness, joy. As I pour the boiling water, I am grateful that I can choose to brew myself coffee in the late afternoon.