Hello Strangers, and all my love to you.

In the spirit of a gray day, I need you to know that my eyes are falling shut, and I feel like my mind is swimming. Everything has that sleepy distortion over it like a filter. This might not make sense, but I’ve had to take my glasses off so that I can see.

And honestly, that’s just what today’s post is about.

Earlier in the week, I was walking shelter dogs during a thunderstorm. Throughout the season, lighting has struck down multiple trees in the little wooden area where we take the dogs on our way back to their pens, and fallen trees block some of the paths. It was dangerous to use that route on this morning, but none of us really heeded the warnings. And every time I’m out there, on the plank bridges above the ebbing stream, next to the rotting logs covered in moss, turtle shells and rabbit dens, and birds—more brightly colored than they seem they should be—I always want to take pictures. And I never have the time.

But finally, on this morning, I finished with the dogs and there was just enough time to take a couple of shots before I had to leave. That was when I noticed the blue light refractions on my glasses. Usually not a fan of that color palette, that day I saw a universe in the lenses. Speckles, in the path beyond.

You’ll all get tired of me saying this, I say it often now; the world is a dark place. But I think part of our responsibility as those who live here is to try, as often as possible, to see things in a different light.

Love,

–Mabel