So much going on of late, every day this week I’m all revved up and my head won’t let go. Sleep is elusive and fitful.

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from the flickr set “Emergence”

On a very early morning walk last December, I got into watching these bits of flotsam and jetsam as the wind alternatively let them rest and then tossed them around. Their sometimes bright colors, the more usual muted ones, took up position against the backdrop of the murky pavement in curious ways, as if they were trying to tell me things. Expressions of the wind…

This photo came to mind now, in this early morning, as I was asleep and suddenly awoke with a dream that something was hanging over me, slowly turning in the strange light of a red sunrise. It wasn’t frightening: it was kind of distant and peaceful, beautiful, and it made a sound that I remember from nights when I traveled by motorcycle across the US and slept in rest stops in a tent made by draping a tarp from motorcycle to picnic table. A quiet rushing sound, the sparse traffic moving on the highway a few dozen feet away, and light catching branches and bits of the motorcycle looming over me. 

Why did Thomas Wolfe’s Look Homeward, Angel just pop into mind? 

Back to bed. 
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