The bigger the fire, the larger the circle, but yes, there’s a balance between fuel and oxygen although generally, I think, it’s a good idea to err on the side of the former.
After all, you can always readjust the conflagration once it’s started, especially when, thanks to the latest technology, everything set alight is, as was mentioned, essentially a wick.
That’s what I like to see: a maximum of involvement at whatever level that means.
Certainly, if you’ve navigated those switchbacks through the forest, you get first dibs on the warmth, right along with everyone else.
There was the moon, shiny in its misnomer: you call it first quarter, but it looks like the half.
And this is what I love about time: inching along, it suddenly turns on the warp drive. Just moments ago, you were challenging early arrival at the edge of the world; two breaths later, it’s already tomorrow.
I will always have a special place in my heart for Orion’s Belt and there it was patiently abiding alongside our brighter little satellite. Distance, in such cases, makes way more difference than size. You can’t believe how long it takes but you’re sure glad for the way it turns out: trails over roads; just do what you think you ought not and in that way, ensure yourself that someone is watching, for sure.
Tommie reminded us what happens when plans hypnotize the next thing; what matters, as Fred pointed out, is that we’d exorcised all car karma of the executive in chief, who couldn’t be there for pretty much that very same reason. Three flats before the first beer is nearly unprecedented, although I do recall more than one occasion on which arrival up North took hours upon hours.
That trains still run, though, and bottles heaved skyward continue to make the most satisfying sound of all: the one that’s only possible under conditions like this, the kind that never happen except this way.
After all, you can always readjust the conflagration once it’s started, especially when, thanks to the latest technology, everything set alight is, as was mentioned, essentially a wick.
That’s what I like to see: a maximum of involvement at whatever level that means.
Certainly, if you’ve navigated those switchbacks through the forest, you get first dibs on the warmth, right along with everyone else.
There was the moon, shiny in its misnomer: you call it first quarter, but it looks like the half.
And this is what I love about time: inching along, it suddenly turns on the warp drive. Just moments ago, you were challenging early arrival at the edge of the world; two breaths later, it’s already tomorrow.
I will always have a special place in my heart for Orion’s Belt and there it was patiently abiding alongside our brighter little satellite. Distance, in such cases, makes way more difference than size. You can’t believe how long it takes but you’re sure glad for the way it turns out: trails over roads; just do what you think you ought not and in that way, ensure yourself that someone is watching, for sure.
Tommie reminded us what happens when plans hypnotize the next thing; what matters, as Fred pointed out, is that we’d exorcised all car karma of the executive in chief, who couldn’t be there for pretty much that very same reason. Three flats before the first beer is nearly unprecedented, although I do recall more than one occasion on which arrival up North took hours upon hours.
That trains still run, though, and bottles heaved skyward continue to make the most satisfying sound of all: the one that’s only possible under conditions like this, the kind that never happen except this way.
No comments:
Post a Comment