Carry On to Wayward Suns

Dear Friends, Happy August, Merry Lammas. I'm writing this from a moving car journeying up the length of Vancouver Island, cutting it a bit fine before I vanish into the Wayward Retreat for the next ten days (about which I've written at length here, if you scroll down a ways), away from internet and cell service for the duration. In the distance, mountains overlap each other in layers of blue, while my body barely comprehends where and when it is, but knows to drink deep from extra hours of light wherever possible. It also knows to forage blackberries with friends whenever possible, even – especially? – while waiting in a queue of cars before boarding a ferry.In fact, I spent much of the last six weeks harvesting fruit: service berries from parks, sour cherries from dear friends' tree, an extraordinary bounty of raspberries, unlooked for golden currants. Also I cut my hair. By the time you read this, I'll be unreachable – but I do have a few things to share before I resolve myself…