The more I try to think what to write, the more the thoughts run away, nimble and free.
But I remain hopeful that I’ll find my way back to waxing poetic/inanely on whatever wanders into my mind.
In the meantime, here’s a photo I took of a pile of gravel, with all kinds of filters applied to punch it up, a reflection of the artificial times we live in.
And for fun, the original as it looked straight from my phone (what a weird thing this would have been to write in 1980):
