Rising
I’ve started drinking coffee again.
Tomorrow morning, I plan on getting out of bed very (very) early, way before the sun. I plan on drinking some really strong coffee. I plan on making my way down to the river and back. I plan on lots of writing. I plan on a day so exhausting of possibilities that by the time I lie myself back down in bed at the end of it, my body aches of use.
I would like one more grand morning of thick fog, the thicker the better. The kind that swallows and envelopes you, that forces you to be comfortable with not seeing, that asks you to trust the unknown. I spent the weekend in this kind of fog - and let me just say for the record - there is nothing like it.
Photo: The Shawangunk Mountains (trust me, they are there, just hidden)
