I like that

I like that. I've been feeling poetical myself recently, though I haven't yet begun to exercise those muscles. The poetical sense inside is starting to stir anyway, though, fed by the fog and overcast, crows and ripening cherries, proximity to ocean and redwood. This place is a barely-tamed wilderness on the thin boundary of two ancient places. It's full of magic. Magic, in my head, translates into poetry. I think I'll be writing it down soon. Otherwise it may creep out of my head on its own, and waking up with your head wrapped in blackberry vines isn't the most comfortable feeling. ;)