intimate sleepy morning scrawl

here is my intimate sleepy morning scrawl
i have come down to the river to spend some time investing in and engaging with this evolving idea of you at a distance

on my way down here, i walked past the lake, my shoes damp with dew, the cold air citrus fresh on my face.

imagine, that sublime stillness of the morning. that esoteric, resplendant almost shimmer of the almost dawn. the world is waking and little forrest spirits are sleepily, mischieviously dancing around paiting light and colour. with grace, with levity and with mirth.

i must have disturbed the flock of birds resting on the water because as one, they took to the sky, a cacophanous thundering flurry of feathers
it made my heart lunge in my chest.

I am in a tacit conversation with the morning.
I'm watching everything move subtly and slightly with the breeze. The leaves of a particular tree are rustling effusively. There's a beautiful uninterupted flow to it, a rhythm. Like... oragami being unfolded and refolded over and over.

(For Gen)