wind.

a gentle breeze rustles the leaves.
a fatal force pushes its path.
it can sweep you off your feet
or blow you back towards where you started.


it can lightly tussle your hair
or whip across your face
to stain your cheeks
and dry your tears.






on this day it set me in a new direction.
not painfully, not forcefully, but powerfully and clearly.
as crisp as the birches swaying overhead
was my purpose and path
for a day of joy.


instead of studying for a chemistry test,
I bring you the work of the day, for no grade but pleasure:

Look how the birch bends!

a photo shoot much needed.

at some point, my subject of the shoot shifted from the wind in the birches to solely birches, which I like regardless of the weather. in middle school, my friend CS, our German exchange student friend CG, and I would peel thin pieces of bark off the birch trees and roll it across our palms into fine pieces and powder. it left your hands super soft with a thin tan film. we were definitely the coolest kids during recess.


also, my love of birch trees was encouraged by a book I read in fifth grade, The Birchbark House by Louise Erdrich. I loved that book to death, reading it oh so many times and trying my hardest to learn Anishinabe (Ojibwa). 

the day also yielded a walk filled with treasures
and a new quiet companion.
the day also yielded fourteen rows
of thirty-two stitches.


this, my dear friends,
is to come
to your vision...
at a later date.
but here's a sneak peak:

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