Oh laziness. I know some adults are this lazy, but I really didn't think I'd be this lazy this soon. I thought maybe after years of work on the front lines of some cause or another, I'd become so traumatized/jaded that I didn't see the point, then after I wallowed for a few days weeks months some small singular and profound event would shake me free and give me reason to go back to the front. Sounds like a reversal in a television show. All I know is, the more I dig in and try to hold to something, the more the sun rising, the air heating, then cooling, and the sun setting, and the apples ripening, the more they all tell me there's no use holding on. They all tell me I'll be left grasping at the strains of something long gone from my fingers. This regularity I see every year is good for that, for making sure you don't stop, for making you scared of staying behind.
Still, I'm cold (got a big scoop of chocolate ice cream and danced around licking it until it was gone and now I feel sick from the bouncing). Still, I wish the 80 degree weather and the green leaves and the clear skies that I welcome in summer and dread in winter and the bees and the warm touch of air, I wish they'd slow their leaving and comfort me a while longer. Still, I can't help wishing all of it wasn't so regular, hoping for one of those moments when your brain sets time running differently for you (and maybe the person you're with, but you can't ever be sure of that). Still, I'm grateful.