Feeling transformed.

The setting sun behind me seems like the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. I stop at a house on the way home and get out of the car to take a picture. I grab my two beets and photograph them in the sunset. It seems important. I take a picture of a wonderful white pine because that seems important too.

When I get home, before I even go inside, I start running west, into the woods. I run toward the sunset. I run toward my favorite white pine and take its picture too. Everything feels magnificent. Everything feels euphoric. The pictures don’t capture it, but I can feel it. I can hold the feeling.

That evening, I sit down to write, for fun, because of the feelings. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve felt this kind of inspiration to write.