We’re still here.

There are still too many loose ends, but I will tidy them up as best as possible.

Against the silhouettes of the firs and redwoods, the glowing sliver of a crescent moon.

Still only one contact in the eye.

Great. Not just one day home, but multiple days home.

The layered noises of a fruit day. I settle myself in the cave and get to work.

I wipe down the sides of the bins and start to plan the next thing. Not next year, but the year after that. April. It has to be before fire season. I listen to myself dreaming again and am grateful for the return of free thought.

Surprised but not. These were not good terms.

Certified.

This is going to be fun.