I haven’t trusted myself or my writing at all this month. Just before six I put on my sweatshirt and hat, walked outside and laid in the driveway. Two clouds like Chinese dragons came up on either side of the moon, and I thought about the times I worried I’d never get warm.
Colorado, the first time we went camping with a borrowed tent that leaked. It was mountain dark. The sleeping bag was getting soaked and all I could do was tremble. I crawled inside the car, but the cold still came and sleep didn’t and all I wanted was the sun.
As the sun moves up and over mountains it creates great shadows above the tundra. Shadows like blimps, hot air balloons coming down, giant floating cities in the sky.