.Finding my Way.

Last night the rain came. Today the fog crept through the harbor and hung over doorways. Air felt thicker, slower. Right now, at this moment in my life, my thirty-second year, this is the air I want.

The romance of pushing against the spray of cold needle points. Arms crossed against chest, around big sweater. Hair carried up when ocean meets rock. I've looked forward to the grey, more than ever, this year.

I'm taking this gauzed air and wrapping it like a blanket over me. I move in ways I didn't in the past. This mist makes me see things I haven't before. New England- I'm lured into your coves and stand lookout on your cliffs. They call to me from a point and time I remember, but can't place. It's a haunting I welcome. I'll keep searching.

*I liked my photo lint, so I kept it.