It's been a full week of Life. Very little of that creative.
Sometimes stuff just has to smolder before it catches. I can smell the close, Dreamtime sort, and the only-imagined-in-nightmares kind that so many on the west coast are actually living with. I cannot imagine. I look at the names of the fires, the towns, and cities in the path of danger and then check that against the whereabouts of those I know, even if only through the ether. Always with fingers crossed.
Lately, I've been feeling a little guilty about the weather here. While it seems like the whole country is suffering under abnormal extremes, this backward backwater is enjoying a Summer of old. Sure it gets hot and humid enough to grow mushrooms in your crack. And the thunderstorms roll through as regular as the CSX freight that wakes me each morning at 4:30 am. But none of it has seemed wrong or out of order. Such hubris! It's only the end of July. Shut mah mouth!