I continued my work as a warrioress against mud tonight, until I realized there was no point to fight it anymore. Rather, I spent brief moments amongst a mud clad donkey gang, and I focused on small often unnoticed details- like the way a wet back looks covered in mud against a distant tree in a moss coat.
I sang amongst my clan, a verse of a song I love:
"Some day, when I'm awfully low,
When the world is cold,
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight."
[Jerome Kern, Dorothy Fields]
