We’re having a particularly sweaty summer in New England. Week-long stretches of temperatures in the high-nineties has made it feel like living in the core of a volcano. Climate change is the gift that keeps on taking. Very fun!
This week I decided to talk less, look more. Think of this dispatch as a variation of that maxim about dressing for the job you want, but more like channeling the antidote to the environmental inferno you need.
And if you’re also in the crosshairs of a summer sponsored by White Claw and Satan, clock in the bare minimum and fill your Instagram feed with pumpkin spiced everything.
Cheers, friends!
Fog is one of my BFFs. It’s impossible to take a bad shot (in my opinion). A tree, a stone wall, an ordinary barn wreathed in fog instantly becomes terrifically moody. When fog rolls in, it invites you to move a little slower, look a little closer, to linger longer and see a familiar scene transformed with new eyes.
Maybe it’s my gathering crone years, but I have become uber affectionate for benches. In my city of the future they will replace traffic lights. Flying cars, so no one will be using streets anymore anyway, duh! Rest, stay, just be here now, they whisper. Yes, I say, gratefully sinking into their waiting embrace.
Everyone should have a favorite walking or hiking or meandering trail. This is mine. It’s a path I visit as often as I can. It delights me in every season. It has collected my tears and carried my joy. It is peace personified, and I am just one of its many grateful guests.
Your favorite path is beautiful.