love comes in many shapes and flavors-

Point Reyes. Tuesday, 6-23-09

It’s as though you’re hungry for something that isn’t on the menu, and you don't know just what it is, and the other people at the table are talking about and picking out foods according to the menu, why can't you? But you can see there is something much, much better out there, you just have to ignore the distracting options that won’t feed your hunger, and reach, reach, keep reaching...

Dirty girl-

What color was the ocean?

We sat and watched the water roll forward and back. It was beautiful. I was thinking, if I were a painter, what colors would I use for the water? I couldn’t really tell if the ocean was blue or green or brown or gray; its color shifted. One moment I thought one, then the other, but mostly saw a color for which I have no name.

The wind blew this into my hair the other day, a little treasure. Not sure if it is flower, fruit, or seed.

I've learned over time not to wait (for certain weather, a certain location, the right clothes, the right equipment, the right amount of time, a certain person), but to ACT, to move forward NOW!

Sometimes I'm waiting, and waiting feels beautiful, exactly right.

Houses of many colors press shoulder to shoulder. I smell roses, see the setting sunlight turn houses down the valley of a cross street all gold. And even though the city is densely inhabited by buildings, cars, dogs on leashes and people, there comes a sense of wilderness. The planted flowers and shrubs become bigger than their usual dimensions, the sidewalks are paths created by the tread of the people, the bus no less natural a phenomenon than the jay swooping past, the summer city a vibrating jungle.