Confusion, yet knowledge. Clarity, but muddied. Seeing, obscured by a mesh.
Filters.
Then, mortality. It creeps up on us all.
Yesterday was a day of being sloth-like. A. called; we had a good, long conversation about a lot of things. W. and I drove to Manchester-by-the-Sea (so pretentious) and walked the Masconomo loop (Curtis Point).
Now I’m looking out the window: the trash maples did well this summer – they are in full color glory now, almost gory …red, rust, orange, gold. I need to cut them down. It’s cloudy. By Tuesday night we should have rain, into Wednesday. Indian summer might be waning.