where do i start?

it's been awhile since summer. right now it feels like it may never be summer again, but it will be, and i will be free again.

what have i been doing in the last seven months? river swimming with great blue herons, necks crooked like tuning forks. fishing with no bait on my hook. tromping through the woods, on train tracks by the water, through dewey grass in the morning, on the sidewalk, through the snow, snow, snow. riding my bike up impossible hills. fiddling with a banjo (if such a statement can be made). drinking bulleit bourbon with club soda and three lemon wedges. cooking like the devil (all that fire has to be put to good use). listening to horses in the dark. singing with my mouth wide open. learning a lot about myself, sometimes too much, sometimes a little too late. liking boys, loving boys, despising boys, ignoring boys. looking for a job and finding a job and subsequently becoming the muffin queen of asheville. remembering to breathe after forgetting for a while. keeping rabbits for their fiber (and for the way they nudge you because they have really poor depth perception). trying to finish school with as little cynicism as possible. reading about mountains and men. and doing all the other things that humans do, more or less happily, more or less successfully, but always with a sense of wonder.

why am i back? why write again? it might have something to do with coming back up for air, which is something i have a history of forgetting to do. i know how, it just doesn't always happen. there's also the hermit in me that gets warmed up once in a while and decides to come out for some air. here she is.