These things are beautiful:

Running through the park, through fields of camas, in the setting sun. I am flying. It's the Ultimate Thing. Second only to swimming in phosphorescence.

The kettle boils. Pouring the rolling water into the pot, the teabag tugging its string and, finally, succumbing into the depths of the pot.

The spring. A warm breeze through the apartment. Birds... ducklings scootering on the ponds in the park.

It's too beautiful to waste.

I got a phone call today, from the Engineering department. They want to meet me. Nothing guaranteed, but they are interested. I am interested, but I will not want this as much as before. I will not let myself want it, and then maybe I will get it.

Me, me, me:

The bird who wakes me up every morning.



My fields of camas.



Hellebores, growing in garden of the B&B in Oak Bay.



Shooting stars. Better than real shooting stars? It's hard to say.