Journal

The woods smell new, like they have been washed and are waiting.

I stood still long enough that a bird decided I was part of the path.

I didn't need a perfect picture. I needed the feeling of staying.

If I get the window I forget to talk.

The wing is a line drawn on purpose. The sky is everything else.

I want a picture that makes you look up too.

I like streets that still hold the shape of a person.

Flowers in the windows. A bike. The feeling that a story already happened.

I don't always need the person in the frame. I need the warmth they left.

The pictures I love most are the ones where nobody is performing.

Arms around each other. Looking at the same far away thing.

If you find yourself in this one, you can keep it. It is yours too.