I light my candles. It’s dusky here, inviting everyone in. I see birds on the wire, the hills dismissing themselves, the sky a squish of grey, white, off-white, grey again, closed, basically. I have tunes on and way beneath are my thinks, and that thinks me again, about surface and depth and a whole load of other shit I am going to have to unwind like chicken wire, which, btw, is very tricky. The way we all accept surface life. I don’t like it, can’t find my feet, once skittered with the question of it. And they are skittered.

What nobody tells us.

I watched good folk, no, not watched, heard their voices after this massive storm saying they never thought it would be like it was, were not prepared, laughed a bit. More thinks.

Be ready. It will come again and again. We did this. We caused this. Are we going to do something? Not for the world, but for our home, our loved ones and intuitively, thoughtfully, inventively? Like talking to them.

What nobody tells us about the happy jolly surface of life is probably….what?

An opportunity to dive?