time and tide wait for none.
the time grows short, the hours descend and the blackness is at its thickest,
i leave this city and travel into the gathering summer, into the wild the forest and into the country where
nature waits, with tangled bough and shimmering surface.
the road leads to nowhere, to the womb to the close family. the city is the beast as well, for we are everything but something other than the animal, but nevertheless the wild awakes in all who listen a perspective that is universal and carries the complete wisdom of life.
Beyond the high reaching cement and glass and beyond the ribbons of black tar and rock that wrap this ancient landmass.
Where the blue waters hustle and sigh, where the air is salty and the bush is tangled over the rocks before it leads into the dark shadowy glades and fens where the rocky rivers run.
the country, my country, our country, the wilderness, where the city runs silent behind me and the ancient traditions continue in from of me. the sky is endless and no light betrays its best intentions.
but none of this matters.
its magic is in the sublime and only contemplation and patience and the eventual silence of the mind trick it into drifting into your fragile eggshell mind like a drug that never fades.
have a great christ mass and new year,
if i am not eaten by a shark i will return in the new year.