My lost frequency...

And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer. The first week of July hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much colour. But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does, and then it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles into your favourite chair and fills the afternoon with stories of places and things and it feels as if nothing had changed at all.

Not just another love...

Beginnings are sudden, but also insidious. They creep up on you sideways, they keep to the shadows, they lurk unrecognised. Then, later, they spring. It's a lot easier to say when something ended rather than when it began. Most of us can recognize the end from a mile away, but the beginning always slips up on us, lulling us into thinking what we're living through is yet another moment, in yet another day. Yet with you I knew from the second we first met, that this was the insemination of something beyond my understanding. I had this profound suspicion that somehow every path I've ever walked has been in preparation - shaping and moulding my soul to be compatible with yours. Perhaps such thinking is foolish, and I am far too old to believe in magic - but as it turns out, that has never stopped me before.

Ending a chapter, changing the book...