Camp


Fallen  Leaf LakeThe snow melts quietly away in the heat of the spring sun, converting to liquid, trickling down the hillsides across the roads into the lake. Life begins again, birds call out amongst the pines, the geese herald each sunrise with joyous honking, tourists creep down the mountain road gawking at nature, and I feel the urge to be out running, to be out hiking. Dripping sweat in the sauna, nights spent sipping on expensive liquor, getting my chops back on my hand drums, trying to stay away from pastries, eating Grapenuts for breakfast. Laying out on the boat dock and watching ducks bob sedately on wavelets in the sun. The little dramas and entanglements of relationships. Organic dark chocolate. The constant need for napping never fulfilled. A contentment and an urge to leave. Rooms that once were dark filled with light. Short fuzzy quips over the radio. Opaque cups. The sound of my world revolving like the seasons, thinking of the other side, yearning for somewhere else, even as I daily renew the love I have for this place.

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Author: manderson

I live in NYC.

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