western horizon
photo by Sylvia

A wasp got into the house today. Flying to the top of the 15 foot living room ceiling, banging its large body against the big windows, causing a bruising, crunching sound with every violent slam.

At first, it was motivated and seemingly angry, wings buzzing in frenetic gestures of desperation.

Ten hours after its first appearance on my window, the wasp hung onto the sill quietly, exhausted and resigned.

When everything else is stripped down, what finally remains is the illusion of an open sky held at bay by invisible walls barring all flight.

The Past

wet leaves
photo by Sylvia

i dream of the past and suffer all over again


Spanishwoods is 2 1/2 years old. In that time I have brought only positive light to these blog pages. But for the next week, it’s going to get a little darker. One week of meloncholia. One week of a negative purging of sorts. If you have no desire to read a stormier version of the woods, skip this week and I will see you again in mid July.

thoughts from the forest

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