“He was a lonely ghost uttering a truth that nobody would ever hear.”

The color in the mountains peaked at some point a few weeks previous to now.  Vibrant mixtures of red, amber and bronze burnt out into empty patches of grey.  A dreary hue which will overstay its welcome again this year, as it did the last.  I can only do my best to keep it from settling into my mind and heart in the cold and merciless months to come.  Sometimes in the winter, it seems impossible to see or feel anything but the grey.  But lately there has been color, sunlight, perfect temperatures and lovely breezes through the window.  And so I savor them, wish I could preserve them like raspberry jam.

Life has become busy.  At least, busy in my definition.  I do think I have a fear of being truly busy, though I'm not sure why.  I guess I've always been weary of the way appointments and obligations threaten to envelop, suffocate.  I have a selfish and immature streak in me - I have a need to breathe free, live free.  Not completely devoid of responsibilities, but free in the little ways that matter to me.

Time with Drew.  Time for adventuring, memory making.  Time to simply be.

I've been thinking a lot about that lately - freedom.  How people have struggled for it and how that struggle never seems to end.  ("If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face— forever. ”)  I think we all have an inner sense that tells us we were meant to be that way - with the ability to make our own choices and earn our own livelihood by the work of our own hands.  The trouble is, we aren't always true to our inner senses.  Are we?  Sometimes we betray them, sell them out to vice, dominion, greed.  These ever-present common foes.  I don't doubt that at times it might seem worth it.  To give up freedom for luxury, or safety.  Or at least the illusion of these things.  I don't doubt that at the time it might appear to be a fair trade.

But a betrayal of the self, of nature, is not one that can be outrun.  And you'll find yourself battling against it, working to justify it, feel the price paid for it soon enough.  

I'm really not sure where any of this is coming from.  I suppose that lately I've just been feeling fortunate.  To have a little home, and a life full of love and sincerity.  We are rich in the things that matter.  And I'm happy for that.