Daily Drudgery

The river sang to me today, a song of broken dreams and future warmth, of distant places, lost friends, dead ends, new beginnings, and common routes - typical nature gooseshit, a windy treat played through nameless instruments. The day's warmth and wind had cracked the thick riverside ice into a thousand fist-sized pieces, and the wind and waves jingled the ice-xylophone through a one-time tune. Sometimes the wind was too strong, overwhelming the ice pieces tingling against eachother, but when i stopped and listened for a while, the high, frozen notes drifted through an amazingly resonant, surround sound performance.

Makes a good memory; the wind writes ever more in the increasingly deep wrinkles on my face.