I really like Seattle's landscape -- the trees and the hills and the mountains and the *lists on and on*
It's really prettyyyyy ~
and just like
that I fell in love with a picture of Seattle. That wasn't good description;
quaint but vague, adoring but kind of nothing, yet its enough for me to feel
the summer air. Did I mention that I really like air? I love air. Air is the
best.
Today I raced
the sunset, even though my quads still don't allow me to squat without making
an inhumane face. I was going to run 2.5 miles because sunset was reported to
be 8:09, and it was, well, 8:09, and I thought I was afraid of the dark. But
heck to the no. Heck no. One step under the paper clouds scattered around the
setting candlelight fire bent my breath into the words "how good is
God." How good is God. A glimpse of the sky against the wind's kisses
really, really psyched up my legs. I ran so fast, gnats died on my face on
impact. I found out when I looked in the mirror before my shower. So lovely, I
know. Half
racing the sun, soaking in the colors and swallowing too many gnats, half
beating the darkness, rubbing off the closing navy. That's beautiful.
What
else is beautiful. The beating sun in the saran wrap humidity. Cuddly
winds. Tear drop rain and waterfall thunder. Dancing orange mist in the vanilla
sunset. Purple Popsicle skies and the sheriff's whistles of birds.
The morning scent of twilight dew and the tickle of the very, very wasteful
sprinklers (do you know how much fresh water we waste on making our lawns look
pretty? Watch this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-enGOMQgdvg).
Woodchips that bend under the weight of a bound and sun scattered fields
hidden behind the really, kind of huggable trees.
And
that's just part of summer time.
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