March 2017

I wanted to post an update, but just don’t have the energy to write and write, so here are some photos.

I’ve been looking at trees, the shapes, the arching branches

Traveling monthly into the city to see my psychiatrist

I’m fascinated with the loads that we traveled next to on the highway

It looks like rain

Industrial plant along the Maumee River

The rows of trees along the fields

One of the few active farms

An old house with big old trees

We passed my river on the way home

The Ohio way to build a new barn, let the old one fall down, then build a new one on its footprint.

Green fields in March are disturbing, but more common.

A big old farm with tree still standing

A row of trees as the sun sets

Another smaller tree on a windy day

It was warm and sunny
until a couple days ago.
I even dug a little garden
in the back yard.

Then it snowed and
the will to stay awake
was buried under the clouds.
I have things to do, but
my enthusiasm escapes me.

I’ve been reading and
writing book reviews.
The pleasure I have from
reading fades so quickly
at the end of each novel.

Writing about it almost gives me
an extra hour of coherent thought
before I drift again.

I know it’s March, but
my mood is similar to November.

It feels like the beginning
of the dark season. Or, maybe
just my period, same thing.