Seasonal Movement

Jeez almost a month has passed already before I could get back on this thing.  

In the heat of the summer, everything was constantly growing and there was constant movement. The campsite we were running was constantly booked. There was constantly something that needed doing, or else we were outside as long as the sun was up. 

But now the cold and the wet and the dark are descending, and though that should offer plenty reason to get back writing, it keeps escaping me. It could be because the Long Covid has come back, either as a seasonal phenomenon or as residue from that evil ghost Delta passing through, which is entirely possible. But it ain't tellin. 

Hard mornings breathless and faint, and my mind just goes away, along with the old passions. It would be freshly frightening and discouraging if I still cared, but the caring is gone too, at least for that. Just have to keep moving now. 

Plenty of heavy stuff to write; I'm taking notes at least. Soon enough I'll have some more time, and hopefully the thoughts and stirrings come back with it.