a little glow
The Dutch sea is a mud puddle but the sun felt so good on my chalky skin. The beach was filled with families, it was so nice to watch kids bury each other and splash their moms. These herring stands get pulled down the sand by huge red tractors selling frites, fish and sodas. I'm feeling a little less ghosty and I miss Mexico. January was the very limits of peace, collecting sea glass, stripping myself of everything, making it raw and getting sand in it. I ate books until I was gagging on words, and then combed the shore. I found plenty of bottles, but I never wrote any letters to toss back into the water because I didn't have an address at the time to write on some blurry letter. It was a warm weekend. Yesterday we packed our bags and rode to Haarlem, through the country side, meeting ponies and new lambs along the way. My legs were feeling every rotation on the last few kilometers home, but I felt truly healthy for the first time in a long time. We bought lunch at the Saturday market eating in a parking spot along the canal We stepped on the floor of gravestones in the gigantor cathedral built in the 15th Century. The black marble head stones were the only thing to stand on, and names were since worn away. and now, I need to think about all of the reading I need to accomplish tomorrow and get my shit in line to hop on a train to Switzerland on Friday night. I will pack a little space cake and books, and make myself a little nest of sweaters until I am delivered to a strange neutral city nestled between mountain ranges looking over the lake. I have been writing under private entries - pretending not to care, but mostly caring quietly. I guess this is one of those shitty parts about growing up - knowing when to shut the fuck up and keep your head on straight. but yes yes yes. Everything is teeming with life here, and the tourists come in swarms and stand on the bike path not registering bells. And the parks are full of children. And the birds are taking over. I need a lesson on how wind works.
