better late than never eh?

i've been camping in the eastern sierra mountains for the last few days and let me say, the thoughts were flowin.. it's late and i gotta be up for work in the morning but i'll jot some of this down because it was from this morning and i think it deserves to get put somewhere before the close of the day...

{now this was a thought process that began as an observation in my mind and then apparently desired so badly to become a descriptive piece on my morning kayak ride that i drafted the entire thing in my head while out on the water, and felt compelled to say it over and over.. and over, to remember it once i got back to shore, where i could get my hands on a pen and paper. Although the paper didn't come so readily. once i found a pen i quickly scribbled some key words on my thigh to help me re-draft it in scrappy entirety a little later..}

it's 5:50 am. way too early and way too cold to be sitting in a puddle of icy water.
i'm an electric orange vessel on a body of heavy blue true glass. and i mean true, and i mean glass. there's this ethereal fog that neither my camera nor my pen can translate. And the sun's creeping up and in..
it rises. i paddle. it rises. i paddle. i'm chasing something that's chasing me.
{i've said it before and i'll say it again: it's a tragedy not to have a pen when you need one}
In this moment i realize my marriage to writing is yes, often neglected, but by no means unrealized.
In this moment I almost want the beauty to cease for a bit, or else i'll keep wanting to write and keep not being able to.
In this moment I wonder why i spend so much time squandering the fullnesses of life, because if ever a moment were full, it's now.
"whooee, there it is. so bright. there it is," she said from behind.
I’ll commit to myself, to commit to memory, the magnificence that is now.
It’s the start of a day you just know will be technicolor through and through.
it's electric.
i'm ecstatic.
and giving out silent 'hoorahs!' for seeing and for breathing.
the delineation between the lake, the light, and the pausing of my wayward worries, is positively undetectable.