I am alternating between reading updates of the American situation and working on my upcoming project. This post's header mentions war, and of course we're not there yet (and hopefully won't ever be), but the president just framed two senators' disagreement to a policy of his as an act of warmongering. I have been going from that to dream-haunted rivers and back again, while drinking tea (even in the heat) and wishing for winter. Every now and again I slip away to my garden, to sweep a path or do a little weeding - touching peace in the dirt.
Here is an excerpt from the project ...
People don't write lovely nursery stories for children like me. We find our story fulfillment in the moss and the cobwebs, the unused stairs and locked doors, the old hidden waters which slink through our dreams at night when we forget to leave on the light. You know – the places fairytales come from.
Whether you are in the space of war words or dream imagery, or outside tending flowers, I wish you everything you need for the day.