A walk to the train station, snowflakes in giant negative space gently float through the air. And it’s the coffee and chocolate chip cookie that strangely reminds me of Scandinavian roll bread with deer meat and lingonberry jam. There on electric trains, here on diesel spewing tracks and the cabin smells of fumes. Now both our fathers are dead and life inevitably goes on. Distinction between life and death merely a continuation of birth and living. Snow clad peaks and mountains like straciatella, vanilla and crushed chocolate on a bed of cookie colored landscape. Train bellowing, maximalist soundscape in a minimalist landscape. Patches of chipped paint mistaken for ice on rooftops. Tumbleweeds skipping along desert roads. Clouds heavy and low, blanketing, muffling. Desires surfacing only to be subdued. Will we become like before or is this a new path, a new birth? Just another year come and gone. But is this change substantially different? Shame fills my mind as I realize I’m screen bound typing instead of enjoying the view… I send a final thought to your new day and the sensation of being in a world where he no longer walks and breaths, but still exists all around you. Jemez tells me to quit. Too far to be with her, the caldera, mother natures womb, but I obey, and turn my phone off…

Listening 🎧:

Moon Diagrams — “Trappy Bats” mini-album