I had to go back to where I was from. The beach, where the forest meets the ocean and the river lets in. In that golden autumn we were all forgotten. I hung my shirt on the back of my chair and it looked the same as it did on me, a trick that sometimes works on crows.
Bill Pearse 
a perfect place to be
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I’m about to get out and see some constellations and that will be (perfect) too! Be well Beth, thanks for reading.
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‘…where the forest meets the ocean and the river lets in.’ That is one perfect piece of land-sea conjuring, Bill.
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Hey thanks! I wish you could see the actual place referenced there! Hope you are doing alright, Tish. “Mystery Achievement.”
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Now that would be a fine thing – to be there! Otherwise, we are fine thanks, despite the ongoing global gaslighting campaign and fascist take-over of the nation. Trust all is well with your and yours.
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Yeah, fascist-schmascist, right?! Fight the good fight.
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I hereby demand that you write a novel and end it with these lines. Or memoir. Either one will do. There just needs to be a book in front of these sentences.
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Namaste…we’ll talk. Thanks man!
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… or the beginning of a memoir/novel.
Here, forest really only meets sea in the tropical north. Intemperate growth.
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It’s a beautiful look, with the old growth forest on cliffsides/bluffs and overland trails. My favorite hiking spot is that, with rope ladders too. Sounds unreal but it’s not!
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