gone fishin

I'm falling behind on the ol blog + know there are gaps to be filled. Late last week I journeyed to the Palace - a world of green parrots, rolling hills, pristine interior surfaces - + left the Shack behind. A new chapter unfolding. But somehow I don't feel inclined to put any of it into words. Once again I find myself in an introspective space where words don't fit. Not bad introspective. In fact, the handful of people I've spoken to in the last week have all told me how good I'm sounding. Oh, you're sounding so GOOD. Am I? Well thank you, I guess I am good. Although, to be honest, I can't quite put my finger on how I am. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a giant pool, peering in + wondering what's going on in there.

The pool at the bottom of the vineyard is full of trout. Every evening I wander down to feed them + marvel at their beauty. They embrace the dinner delivery vigorously, launching their shining bodies out of the water in flashes of silver, red, green. I can only hope there's something as exciting going on in my pond. I'm happy to wait + see.

I've been hanging out
with a pond full of trout
+ not one has a pout
so what's all that about?