holly

things that appeal to me: the endless possibilities in road trips, the smell and crackling sounds of a campfire, the coolness of wet beach sand, the smell of fallen leaves in an autumnal forest, the glow of the moon's path reflecting on a still lake at night, the surprise of finding pockets of wild mushrooms, the roaring lullaby of a Great Lakes' crashing waves, the morning dew-y outline of a spider's web, the anticipation of thunderstorms, the sight of the solemn freighter ships in the distance, the taste of ginger, the feel of solid wood doors, the potentials of an old metal sewing machine, the vastness and wonder of the constellations, holding two opposing positions at once, crooked smiles, exposed hips, ethnobotany, good conversation, the confidence and camaraderie of good friends, hidden spaces, making stuff, low lights, monkeywrenching, left-handers, the constantly changing landscape that happens during every sunrise and every sunset, quiet foxes, peoplewatching, the smell of rust, sleepovers, nuance, small vases of flowers, walking through the woods during liminal dusk time, silence, substance, songs in b minor, tolerance, whiskey neat, trinkets, underdogs, winking and people who wink, re-using stuff, the sounds of the croaking frogs in Spring's ephemeral ponds, facing fears, frame drumming, making (and checking off) lists, feeling the earth between my toes