Rose-wet sea of sky

Down below, the Columbia River rolls on toward the Pacific, a vein of rose quartz etched across the landscape. The flight home included an hour and a half of cruising through sunset into a golden light, the most beautiful flight I've ever been on.

I am worn out emotionally and physically, grateful for the privilege of having made that trip but also flat out of resources. I am going to lie down and concentrate, as Grace suggested, on arms and legs, as a way to come back into my body with kindness and interest. September 22 did not really last for two days, but that is the felt reality of it.