local to local
A night full of worry over transition, over being neither here nor there; dreams often being the field in which we play out the underworld, the world too hard to face waking. I recently read about the intervals of darkness used in film making that allow us to transition. Without the darkness there would only be a blur. So I am seeing the light of this nearly cloudless Montana day because of the darkness of night, and will find my way back to Seattle because of the space in between.