Another Dreamy Message from Hawksley

well i wake to snow this morning. lovely. a white mist. i didn't see the autumn here. my body has been hither and scattered. cells catching resonance in airports in tokyo, berlin, london, paris, st. john's, halifax and toronto. i have my first cold in a long time. i remember the last visits from hummingbirds here. and the deer tracks in the garden where the last parsnip tops were munched away. the partridges are back in the trees. the trees are skeletons again. craggy and fingering toward the sky, they make the fatted pheasants look so conspicuous against the fading twilight. funny how the body is slow to arrive in new places. the eyes tell lies till the body begins to believe in every new surrounding. and even then the soul needs to believe in the permanence of a room and bed and angle of light brushing against a city skyline before it unfurls it's belongings. i really must glow about a day where mr. lonely and i rode rented bicycles from akasaka to asakusa. the loveliest, most respectful city streets i've ever pedaled over. long alleyways tethered together with bundles of cables held up by poles and knots. quiet and seemingly never ending. cats and temples hidden in the wrinkles of a rebuilt city. sometimes i feel lost. when i sing i feel found. it feels like so long. i'm so pleased to have a new record to share. i made this record in the spring of this year. while walking muddy bush trails and planting seeds in newly tilled garden beds. over the last couple of years i have recorded a number of records. this one speaks very clearly of a moment. a month of seeing snow melt away in warmer days. of wearing rubber boots to town to buy nuts and fish. of the familiar sense of new hope when the days get longer. of seeing rhubarb blossom and bright, green moss defy the last stubborn patches of crusty, granular snow. it's been a funny time lately. a time of great learning. and stumbling. of feeling strange polarities. knowing and wondering. living and forgetting. waking up with a tired soul and relearning that which i didn't know i had to cling to with such strength. even on a tiny planet it's amazing how often one can feel so far away from home. it always makes sense to look in the unlikely places. to listen carefully to the lulls. to save energy for discovering the little bursts of magic that happen in the wake of what's obvious. for those towering distractions, those glowing watersheds, those obvious, clanging epochs, happen in between what is truly beautiful. may we all serve the blessings of what is simple, fragile and delicate. that which lives in the echoes of trumpet blasts that leave seaward on the wind. let us believe in rest for weary souls. and time to mend and nurture love.

warmest and sincere wishes. h.

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