(listen to the lobsters with me)
oh what i’d give to have it back for just one moment: the stars twinkling white and blue and green and red, the sky black as india ink, thick with webs and spirals of galaxies and distant nebulas, other planets maybe. his smooth and suggestive spanish interupting the silence, the passing of binoculars, the thrill of having a secret conversation in a language no one else understood. the damp breeze whipping through our hair, over our goosebumped skin as our canoe sped through the night, the voices stolen by the wind, by the echo of all those millions of insects that lived and breathed and sung within those impossibly crowded forests. oh, i could list for all eternity the beauty that is the Amazon, but it would still fail to do it any justice.
i’ll be back later with a few other disconnected and strange thoughts, as well as amazonion and andean memories. as rough as things can get these days, im still convinced 26 is the best year yet. i must be doing something right.