Some mornings I wake up from this dream about a friend I haven't seen in 20-odd years, and my chest feels hollowed out with longing for him, for that connection. It feels deliciously right and disappointingly sad at the same time. It's a mystery.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Snow is Art
Snow and ice crystals on a frozen creek in the dog park. J. took this photo before Cocoa brought the stick back.
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