Year end. The air is cooler. It rains every other day, if not incessantly. A constant waft of moistened freshness, before, during and after the rain. The grass is greener. Everything seems a little bit more lustrous. I want to be by the window, closer to the lingering companionship of pitter patter. I will miss it when it stops. I turn on some music, something velvety and buttery by Zee Avi: “The turtle moves slowly and is happy with his pace of life. The flamingo walks with elegant grace, she knows she’s one of a kind.” For a brief moment I am not what other people think of me nor in a tangle of other people’s problems.
The calendar is down to its last pages. Each event past archived in the diary. The year concludes either with a bang or mediocrity, provided one only believes in two possible conclusions.
For me, I only hope I have learned a bit more about myself. Here’s to a new year, new journeys and new discoveries ahead.