I spent three days here with people I love. I like this spot because the view looks like a framed portrait but it’s actually a real life seascape from the adirondack chair, from the wooden porch. It’s a hazy sunset, on the final day of August, before a blue moon (as in once-in-a).
It’s the day before I rested in the grass, had a baby fall asleep in my arms, and walked the pebbled beach to the Osprey nest after midnight with friends, while the tide crawled in from two directions to create a perfect sandy point under the moon.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about how to frame a life, how to see what I want to see through the lens. I want more time to write. I want a garden that’s only mine. I want to travel to far-away places. For so many months, I’ve felt trapped because the framework I’ve built doesn’t fit what I want and I don’t know how to build a new one. I’ve let things get away from me. I don’t know what I’m waiting for.
September, for me, has always been an empty notebook, a never-before-used pen. September, I’ve decided, is for me to figure out how to have what I’ve always seen.