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Jan. 3rd, 2025 07:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asakiyumeToday it was the laundry basket's secret code that I felt tempted to decipher:
It's like writing you see in a dream and then struggle to write down as you wake up.
I went for a walk in the woods on New Year's Day with wakanomori--our destination was a beaver pond. It was late: we had to walk briskly to get there and back before dark. On our way we met an older man coming in the opposite direction. He had a polished, painted walking stick. I admired it, and he said he'd painted it himself--the moose, the man in the kayak, the dark pines--all things that were important to him. And at the top, the colors of a coral or king snake, because, he said, he loved snakes. He had beautiful eyes and an accent that reminded Wakanomori of Dorset farmers. He allowed as to how there were a lot of people on the trails that day--but for us, he was the first. (We met several others after that. On our way back, Wakanomori said, "I wonder how many more humans we'll encounter." I gave him a sidelong look. "Your disguise is slipping," I said.)
The mist was rising by that point:
It's like writing you see in a dream and then struggle to write down as you wake up.
I went for a walk in the woods on New Year's Day with wakanomori--our destination was a beaver pond. It was late: we had to walk briskly to get there and back before dark. On our way we met an older man coming in the opposite direction. He had a polished, painted walking stick. I admired it, and he said he'd painted it himself--the moose, the man in the kayak, the dark pines--all things that were important to him. And at the top, the colors of a coral or king snake, because, he said, he loved snakes. He had beautiful eyes and an accent that reminded Wakanomori of Dorset farmers. He allowed as to how there were a lot of people on the trails that day--but for us, he was the first. (We met several others after that. On our way back, Wakanomori said, "I wonder how many more humans we'll encounter." I gave him a sidelong look. "Your disguise is slipping," I said.)
The mist was rising by that point:
