quick


A sunset above the clouds is unlike any other.

At the edge of the horizon it looks like the ocean curling into orange.

The clouds all weave together, like softest snow. It feels like you could just walk right out on them, walk right out to the edge, where the sun continues its descent.

These little rolling hills of cloud, a cushion to the biggest fall.

A soft paintbrush has swept across them, cleaning any impurities for wisps of grey-blue whitecaps.

The closer you get the more you see how layered they really are.

Down. Down.

Engulfed in grey.

I just had to try to capture the sunset from the airplane. Had to. So it’s a bit broken, a bit unfinished. But here for you.

I almost lost a cousin today. Some people did. A brother, a sister, a wife, a best friend, a son. Or are with them, grieving over the place where a limb used to be. Minutes felt like hours as I waited to hear back from her, checked in with other friends and family in Boston or running today. I can’t recall feeling more helpless or scared in years. More. I was sick, I was stressed, worried, trying not to cry in the middle of the conference room. Thankfully I was alone in there for some of the time. I wanted news. Then pictures started getting picked up by the media. I had to stop. Even after I found out my cousin and about everyone I know in Boston was okay. I’m still incredibly rattled. When I called her I got only voicemail and tried really hard to keep calm. It was chaos, she was letting others know she was okay. But how can you know? My heart goes out to all the runners, friends, and family members of the victims. So many people, from all around the world, were hurt or are grieving today. I grieve with you. Love.

Nellie the dog is safely back home – New England home, not with-me home. I know I will miss her, but it was the right decision. Work is doing its usual of picking up the pace, and I’m looking forward to being able to be more social. I am not ready for a dog. I am so happy to have had a trial run, and she’s been a great dog to have. I’m very glad I didn’t adopt a dog and realize it wasn’t for me! Obviously I would have figured things out and tried harder, but especially now with hiking the AT next year, dog-less is good. I know I’ll miss her and it will take a brief adjustment period to not having her greet me every time I get home, but I think it’s better for both of us. She deserves more time outside of her cage, more time to run around outside.

My mom left with her this morning. I’m home now, and it’s quiet, and there’s an empty cage – no excited hairball to jump on me.

In a totally unrelated note, I’ve become obsessed with “Sorry” by Alan Doyle, of Great Big Sea.

You can’t unring a bell

You can’t untell a story

You can’t unbreak a heart

I’m sorry, I’m sorry

These are the days I miss college the most. When my job is so busy, so chaotic, and requires so much time that all I want is access to a library, with the quiet murmur of other students up as late as I am. A study carrel, a sprawling table so I can spread out, a closed off room to collaborate in, or breathe in, or just be in the presence of others, studying and working silently, but having the close camaraderie of knowing others are working, too. Sometimes, like for this project, it would be nice to know my bed is only feet away instead of miles, that my teammates could sit in a soothing place together and talk when we needed to. Mostly silence.

Savor it while you have it. There’s something special you won’t find anywhere else.

What I want to be doing:

  • Watching more West Wing
  • Composing a blog post about what I’ve been learning from West Wing
  • Read all the recent posts from new followers and maybe follow back
  • Read one of my many concurrent books on my list
  • Write just for me
  • Write just for you
  • Text a boy
  • See my family
  • Go buy new sneakers
  • Continue planning my trip, part 1
  • Go get my mail
  • Go for a walk
  • Take random and absurd pictures

What I should be doing:

  • Homework and reading
  • Getting to bed before 1am

What I am doing:

  • Well, you’re reading it!

Now that that’s off my chest, I guess I should actually get to work.

<sigh>

“This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety. Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals–sounds that say listen to this, it is important.”

– Gary Provost

“What exquisite beauty can possibly rival that of newly fallen snow? Each evergreen spruce and balsam frond holds a scintillating white pillow. Sunlight on the lake’s snowfield imparts a dazzling purity as though all the desecrations of man had suddenly vanished.”

– Paradise Below Zero by Calvin Rutstrum, 1968.

Wow. Just. Wow.

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