Today was a blustery day. The wind whipped me to HPAC at lightning speed and whipped me coming home as I struggled to bike past the walkers. So many things come with the wind. New seasons, fresh air, the sound of leaves, waves on rivers and oceans, the ease of moving, the struggle of moving.
Today I returned to the tree by the river. How many times will I return to this place? It seems to be one of those pillars, one of those tangible spaces or places in life, a physical support of the arching time that passes through and around it. How many places have such an honor, how many people? I can think of many. Returning to America, returning to Japan–returning, returning.
Something has changed from the last time. Something has changed since the first.
Today it was windy, and the sky was beautiful, and the water was filled with excitement.
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