Out

When the sun is out and the birds are out so too must I be out. Last night marked the first fire of the season, s'more of the season, outdoor use of the alpaca blanket of the season. The sky was clear! The air was fine. There were friends and stories, flames and whispers. My insides say that for the summer I rid the apartment of television. The cable will be gone as my roommate is moving home for the summer and I don't use it. I'll roll the television into another room. I'll open the blinds, that this place might always be known by the sun, and the windows, that I might learn the language of the birds. I want hiking poles for my 24th birthday and sunscreen. In two days I'll be 4K away from being debt free. And on this Sunday morning, waking with an aching body that knows a mid-length relaxation run is in order, drinking coffee and eating a banana taken from the jewish home, these are the things that remind me I am still very, very alive. It doesn't hurt that a week from today I'll awake in the mountains. With the birds, with the sun.