every year around this time i struggle to face the reality of the changing season and the cold and wet that comes with it. to describe it as ‘abrupt’ is an understatement. this past summer was a short one and it was good, but more like a hot spell, not prolonged, but pronounced and demanding. [...]

can you believe it's been eight years? there is so much life to be lived in eight years. how many breaths or bites have you taken since then? can you count the number of things you've learned or steps you've placed beneath you? the juxtaposition of life: babies being born while those towers burned and turned to ash.