I was going to call this series of collected thoughts and not-thoughts “Rambles,” for I love to ramble through field and meadow, desert and woodland. But I remembered Billy Collins’ poem “Aimless Love,” and the word “aimless” seems to describe this better.
“Aimless”–not heading towards a point. No goal in sight. Simply what it is, looking around, to see what is there.
I will sometimes share non-thoughts here, and sometimes feelings, and sometimes, perhaps, thoughts, too. Here, I speak in my voice. And I invite you to speak here in yours, too. Let’s share our aimless love of all that is around and within, as if it were always a summer moment.