The Collector and I just moved into a new house and I walk the same way to work everyday. And I’ve done it enough times now that I’m noticing details previously invisible to me. Gifts of the formerly unseen. On Key Street in particular, bunches of papery pink blossoms check my scalp and a maple loosely hugs hung wires.
It’s gotten cold. How quick it happened! The house is 55 degrees and falls a little more with each cycle through night. We have five more degrees to go before the oil burner will kick into gear, our self-imposed torture, and I wonder at what point we’ll crack… no, literally shatter, as ice.