Out there

I'm in Maryland, missing Portland, missing school and snowflakes and ice covered trees and tree covered islands. I'm yearning for a coffeeshop filled with Standard Baking goodies and fresh apple cider, artists with homemade knitted fingerless mittens and orange hunting caps and big smiles as friends pass the threshold and cozy up with a cup of chai and a story. I miss seeing stories on the street, in my ears, dripping down my pen. There are stories all around in this state too, but my mind has been elsewhere. Its been in the sticky cupboards and watery batteries and the dust nestled into the imperfect varnish holding us back from the sea.

The sea!

Christmas is a week away and I don't know where I'll be, once again. What tiny pinpoint on a chart or a map or a globe will I be occupying. What I will be saying, seeing, seaing Christmas morning.

Portland, SALT, the sea seems so far away.