35 more days.

; i am overtired

of the great harvest i myself desired.

~ after apple-picking | robert frost.

beauty.

only in subtlety do we appreciate strength.

slowly dissipating.

i love it when they seem so distant, vast, and magically still,

that they make the sky seem even more so.

observation.

i think a child just might have the best observation skills around.

when we're born into this world,

everything is fresh, new, unfamiliar, and most of all,

uncomfortable.

by sheer instinct babies react to anything they're not comfortable with.

they're on high alert for just about anything, albeit their mother's embrace.

all too often when i see babies, or even young children, their eyes are wide, alert, and darting.

and it is this unfamiliarity, this sense of fresh exposure, that allow their traveling eyes to capture their surroundings.

as we grow, antiquity and familiarity moss over the world, like a veil of dust.

our eyes droop - we look at our feet - and the child-like shine we once had disappears.

and perhaps only returns every once in a while we play tourist.

even the artists, as much as we strive to observe,

grow bored,

grow tired,

grow old.

we attempt to observe the usual in unusual ways,

but might fail to re-capture the freshness, magic, and enchantment little children all too plausibly see everyday.

as children, we observe what we genuinely want to, what we need to.

as we become old, it is likely we observe what we think we want to,

what we think we need to.

conditioning is inevitable, yet somehow necessary.

we shall make do.

let's not grow too fast.