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Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life. |
I've been studying my cover photo for a while now, and it seems to me that it is more than just a photo of what is there that can be seen, more than just three white rocks stacked on a beach. It contains an important question about the future, about what happens long after the photographer has gone. What will happen to our pile of stones when the tide comes in? Will it topple or has the architect built this structure at a safe distance? I don't know what will happen to these words that I stack here on the sand. They may prove safely distant, or they may be swallowed up by a rush of self-doubt. They may be here for a season. They may lose their balance and be scattered by the shoreline, or be hidden away under shifting sands. Perhaps someday, the tides of life will reclaim them. Or maybe that's just a bunch of poetic, romantic nonsense. After all, this is just a blog. |
It's obvious to everyone except the auto blog reminder sending mechanism that I have forgotten how to write and I am trying desperately to avoid any feelings of responsibility. I've been knitting socks. It's November and keeping my feet warm is a decent reason for avoiding any activity that doesn't contribute to my pedal comfort. I don't know where the words went. I am going to force myself to write something, but that might just make it worse. |