golden evenings

Unwitting breakfast for dinner at the Grey Owl (spelled with an 'e' because that's just the way to do it) over the weekend. I don't even have to try anymore, apparently. Has it truly come to this with me and breakfast? Are we really that inseparable?
- peony loose-leaf tea.
- americano, but only half the water as usual.
- bacon bleu cheese quiche.
- peach scone (the moistest perfect scone you ever knew).
- one whole grapefruit.

On the topic of food (it's a good topic; don't judge harshly), this weekend I discovered a newly-opened sushi bar that serves an oyster roll. I'll say it again: AN OYSTER ROLL. The count-down to the mind-blowing experience begins now. This joint even offers a low table where you can sist on floor cushions, true to Japanese tradition. Good form, Oklahoma.

Three (count them) free crème brûlées last night. Historic. It's nice to have friends who work in hotels, and even nicer when the friends are just fascinating.

Golden haze. Rose-tinted glasses my foot, that's what I say. Yellow is where it's at. My little room is filled with a candlelight-colored glow these evenings. Normally I want stark darkness for sleeping, but a golden haze has comforting and romanticizing qualities like you wouldn't believe. It basically puts stars in my eyes and makes me sigh a lot. This is quite conducive for dreaming.

I spoke with a young woman named Randie today. That name strikes a chord in me.

Speaking of chords being struck, how do you explain the phenomenon of constantly being grabbed by this thing, or that violin strain, or an expression on someone's face? I'm currently hunting for a campground to pitch at for a winter weekend trip...browsing through some talented photographer's files filled with mesas and little mountains and big-horned sheep, watercolour skies and stones turned orange by the sunsets - and I'm crying. A marvel, this is.

As Chesterton encourages, be a pygmy. There is wonder in not being "big enough", in being overwhelmed by something. Imagine shrinking to the size of a locust, and watch your horizons expand before your very eyes.

Make mountains out of molehills.


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