Linger-regniL

Peace-inducing skies all grey and blustery, a writhing sea of trees buffeted by rain and wind, this tiny room lit by warm red lights and the faint silvery-dark of a stormy horizon -- these things are mine tonight...

These things are enough tonight...

These things fill me with a sense of contentment -- these things make me marvel at the intense, unadulterated, ferocious beauty that constantly shifts and swirls around us. You need only to look to find it, you know.

I wandered through Greenwood yesterday evening. There was no one else in the entire cemetary -- except for those glorious, colossal crows (that cawed in unison whenever I approached the trees they fluttered in). Sometimes I sprawled in the grass and watched late-day clouds drift lazily across a deepening sky of faded blue. Sometimes I stood beneath the aforementioned oak trees and gazed dreamily up at those black, stately (arrogant) birds. Sometimes I just wandered off the winding, blacktopped path and lost myself among the too-pretty tombstones -- some new, some weathered, and some completely unreadable. I leaned against both of the mausoleums and peered in through the iron-grated windows...I threw myself down on the lawn when memories became a little too much. I recovered though, as now I am wont to do, and drank in the most absolutely calming sunset as I walked home.

Ashes to ashes, you know.

I've only now just inspired myself to write a little. Surprise. I want to share a picture, though -- a tiny daisy near a tiny tombstone (I think it was an ancient child's marker)...and it was the only real flower on the entire grounds. It was particular, striking, and sadly pretty.