morning commute musings

(scribbled on my morning commute into my haiku moments notebook, this is the longest entry I've ever put in there—they're generally fragments)

• • •


CREATE.
S c h e m e.
Remember.

• • •

11/11/2008

Bike ride to the beach w/ Lori.
I take that last right turn to the street that will lead me to the water. I smell woodchips. I love that smell. I feel the excitement building in my body before I even see the water. I needed this.

And there it is. I see it; then, I hear its rough murmurs, gurgles.

I needed this.


There's green and white foam on the beach, thick. Lori and I observe that they look like creatures in a sci-fi movie as they move with the wind and inch closer towards the shore. We joke that what we dismiss as sea foam are really undercover aliens in disguise.


The moon rises at dusk & moves in and out of clouds.


On the way back, I stop and call at Lori to turn around and look at the sky behind us. The trees are dark against the orangebluegray sky. We keep riding. Beyond the trees in front of us now is the moon again (& the yellowish red rings around it), glowing. I take a deep breath and grin. We ride past the aging bison.