sun lulie The sun would envy me were I to visit. 020408 ... birdmad i'm gonna fly there someday, but to prevent the possibility of being incinerated... ...i'm going at night 020408 ... jinx The go button has brought me here twice withing 10 minutes. I wonder if the blather gods are trying to tell me something... Summer will come soon, and I will have my warmth. 030224 ... PeeT cat power's new record streaming at npr all songs, bitches. 120827 ... raze it always burns twice as bright when it's leaving. 220802 ... ovenbird In the dark months I always trick myself into believing I don’t miss it. I truly believe that I am a creature of the gloaming. Then on the first bright days of spring, when its warm hands cup my chin and turn my face to the sky, I wonder how I ever had a moment of joy without this yellow eye telling me the story of all it sees. 260426 ... Jus Faith woke before the baby, a rarity she didn’t squander. She padded onto the deck to watch the orange-pink sun rise above still-black water. The loons were quiet, boats tucked safely into their houses, even the wind remained at rest amongst the piney underbrush. She brewed coffee, held a mug between dry palms, and watched the horizon bleed light across the world. When the baby stirred, she carried him outside and pointed across the lake. “Sun,” she said. “Sun,” he mirrored. A breeze followed, brushing the tops of trees to their tiny deck. One loon’s hollow call rose from the far end of the bay and was answered by another at the opposite end, their song stretched like a thread pulled taut. A wake in the water sent ripples to the shore, lapping quietly against the dock. Somewhere close by a screen door creaked open and slammed shut. Laughter from older children echoed off walls of rock and quartz. Faith pressed her cheek to his, still warm from sleep, and watched the world come alive, as if it had only been waiting for him to open his eyes. 260520 what's it to you? who go blather from