in which we are here



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I get to live here. That’s what I was thinking, listening to Cloud Cult on the drive this afternoon, looking to take today’s palette photo. The weather is just turning sharp this week, and I’m taking everything in before true winter sets to work. It doesn’t feel as though it’ll be long now.

I’ve been reviewing my year, which seems a little silly, but isn’t really, as we’ve come to realize that we tend to track our years in terms of which Rhinebeck house we stayed in, and we’re coming up on the one- year renewal mark for our lease, as well. It seemed a fallow year at first glance, but I’ve really gotten a lot done, much more than I’d initially thought, especially on the subterranean, processing- my- shit level, which helps me get real- world stuff done more efficiently, too. Mostly, I’m just grateful for this space, and our presence here. I think each of our friends the other weekend- folks from the industry who have known us for years- commented that New England seemed to have agreed with us, which was very reaffirming, not just in that there was a marked difference in me, which I think I’d expected, but that there’d been a change in Sam, which I had hoped for, too. I want more ease for both of us, and lately, it feels like we might have found that.

I know I’m off schedule; call it the Rhinebeck effect, but really, this is just what I felt like posting today. I’ve loads to be grateful for- like turning forty later this week, which is fantastic and enormous and really, a little bit extraordinary when I consider how hard I worked at making that not so possible by acting a fool in the years that preceded it- but some of those things I feel like keeping close to my chest and tucked deep like the treasures they are this week, and rather than make a dodgy list around all that, I’ve brought you the foliage. I hope it’s beautiful where you are, too.

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