It’s been over six months since I was at Walden. I know because my dreams change. Lately at night I’m in the woods or on the deck or near the
spring. Sometimes Dad is there, silently watching, and that’s not a bad thing anymore. Last night I dreamed of a big pumpkin patch out behind the bath house, bright orange balls popping out of the fall-dried field full of kids playing and picking jackolanterns for carving. I want a pumpkin patch. And a trip home.
Too lazy to write more today. So I’m going to recycle.
