The pup and I are finding ourselves with our feet in the cool creek water as often as we can. Maple sometimes goes far enough out to swim a little - she makes a tight little circle of doggie paddling.
We walk through our busy little town to this place that feels so far from everything. During the week I start to crave a few moments here to refuel and breathe it all in. The sycamore leaves are falling and becoming part of the water and rocks.
This one half summer - half fall. The yellow then brown sneaking in through the veins.
I want the things I make to have a sense of all of this.