But I am saying goodnight...
not quite, Sanna...
Coming back here, S...
Prosaic Ma'alaea
Echoing a first line of a Jeffers poem.
Something beautiful leaves...
Adularescence in sand; sand as incipient glass; as a mirror of dawn.
Approaching 6 p.m., Makena Landing.
Meanwhile, true wildness is just a breath away, keeping its own counsel, and its judgment in momentary abeyance.