Champaign

everywhere
bronzed and golden wheat, and flatlands
covered in cornstalk greens lay
beside endless meadows beneath
the charioteer sun,
which stretches higher without mountains
nipping at its wheels -
I know, les miserables, why
they call these the plains;
without opening my eyes, I see
every bird, butterfly, soul, and shadow,
forever east, forever west, without trees.
in this country land,
you are I, and this is thee,
and we never without another breathe.
that is the story of the champaign:
battling plains and empty terrain of unity -
or so the story goes...
in the sanguine sunsets,
sometimes I see only crows
and know too readily why they're circling.
not comprehending hope, you hunt it viciously



It's my older brother's birthday tomorrow: happy birthday, Phil! You, more than almost anyone else, are responsible for my being who I am, so thank you and hopefully many more.
Tomorrow is a busy day, so I shan't stay up too late (and I want to read some more about "Dave at Night"). I hope and pray that everyone is doing well, tonight. Only a couple more days until my drive north towards Seattle (and then a little north and east), and I'm pretty excited. I rather enjoy visits to my parent's house - any getaway into the countryside restores me.

Last time I was home, it looked a little like this on the left portion of my backyard, glancing into the forest. I'm excited to see the buds of spring poking out on the maples (maybe - might be a bit early to hope for too much), and the oaks hopefully have something to show me. If not, at least the evergreens will brighten up my days.

Journeys

The police were out in force tonight, though whoever was speeding tonight probably deserved a "reckless driving" notation as well. The clouds were so heavy they fell until they hovered over the road, perpetuating a mist that soaked the roads and car windshields not in heavy droplets, but foggy condensation, like poorly insulated windows in the morning. I was told to watch out for invisible pockets of ice, but I didn't see any, though I was excited to find snow once I reached the hills ascending towards my family's house.
Snow. Maybe I'll get a white Christmas after all.
My week is looking to be more hectic than I originally suspected, being that Christmas is on a Wednesday this year. Strangely enough, that makes things incredibly complicated with work scheduling and figuring out travel times. But it's good to be home, with the hillside outside slumped like shoulders under a thin comforter of snow, and the trees are carrying their own white paint on their green brushes. Merry Christmas, everyone, and safe travels.

*reminders to self -
1. scales, buildings, nature, skein
2. judgment, beyond reproach (murderer, once murderer, raskolnikov)
3. galatians
4. that sickness unto dying