Day 250

September 7, 2021

Happy 77th Birthday Cynthia Stowe.  How I miss you daily.

What an odd day this one was.  I was grieving all day long for the strangest things.  The junk man came and took away all of the stuff that was blocking both the porch and the kitchen.  He took away a small dumpsters worth of stuff, including 2 huge boxes of professional files.  All of my workshops and articles I've written and books and books.  After he left I went to bed.  I was so sad.

Around 3 I went up into the hills.  it was 73 and the new season has begun.  It was glorious, although the whole day was inhabited by biting insects.   

I didn't see any fun animals, no birds to speak of except a group of blue bird fledglings.  They're so beautiful.  No big birds at all in the hills.  

This was my one glimpse of a sunset refecting off of the algae.  The heron is on the other side, but I didn't get him.

And this is the new mural on Hope St.

I really like it.

Grief is a funny thing and it shows it's head in different ways.  I am filled with it tonight and it is taking on the appearance of both anxiety and physical ailments.  What I probably need to do is mourn and let go by crying, but its not there, yet.