I thought this month would kill me - as it always does. That transition from the joys of summer to the realities of fall is a crucible, of lessening light, and frosty mornings and the ennui of hibernation in the offing.
I struggle to find the creative moment. Once found, the moment is fleeting and the satisfaction limited. Somehow I have not satisfied the desire for growing plants, sitting on the beach, and watching the moon outdoors with cicada sounds and summer choirs of night noise.
The magic wains - the mystery and melancholy stares me down. I blink and look away. Now I scan the computer screen for get-aways to topical islands - in my dreams.
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