Our mornings and evenings have been heavy with fog, and on my way to work I passed the last of the dandelions all nodding with moisture. I worried, walking by, about all the wishes sitting there sodden, too heavy to lift through the air and plant themselves somewhere new. All those wishes that might never get off the ground.
Someone I like very much has an unpleasant diagnosis, and over the last few days I have watched something very private turn into something very public and inspiring, and...I just can't really think about it, friends. I feel outpaced by all of the losing this year and buried under trying to find what is light inside of what is dark. I am feeling fragile and worn thin and lucky and angry and tired.
Last week I read an article about a bunch of scientists out in the Australian desert taking x-rays of trees sitting on top of an unmined gold deposit. They've always known that that thing growing over gold ended up with gold in them, but they couldn't be sure if it was coming up from the ground or if it was kicked up by the wind. The x-rays show that the trees gather it through their roots and thread it all along themselves to their leaves, where it concentrates in the highest amounts. You can see it there in the x-rays, little spots of difference all along its veins. You could cut the tree open to find the sparkle laced inside, of course, but why would you? We have always known that the ground on which we plant ourselves makes up the nature of our bones.
Someone I like very much has an unpleasant diagnosis, and over the last few days I have watched something very private turn into something very public and inspiring, and...I just can't really think about it, friends. I feel outpaced by all of the losing this year and buried under trying to find what is light inside of what is dark. I am feeling fragile and worn thin and lucky and angry and tired.
Last week I read an article about a bunch of scientists out in the Australian desert taking x-rays of trees sitting on top of an unmined gold deposit. They've always known that that thing growing over gold ended up with gold in them, but they couldn't be sure if it was coming up from the ground or if it was kicked up by the wind. The x-rays show that the trees gather it through their roots and thread it all along themselves to their leaves, where it concentrates in the highest amounts. You can see it there in the x-rays, little spots of difference all along its veins. You could cut the tree open to find the sparkle laced inside, of course, but why would you? We have always known that the ground on which we plant ourselves makes up the nature of our bones.
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