(Inspiration: Hiking Copper Basin. We picnicked in the snow. A friend pulled a package from his backpack, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string, containing Danishes. We sang while we ate pastries in an avalanche chute.)
Atlases. Audiobooks. Back roads. Baking bread. Bare feet. Beer. Book Club. Bonfires. Brunch. Canoeing. Cardamom. Ceramic mugs. Christmas Eve. Chunky sweaters. Clean linens. Daffodils. Dark chocolate. Dirt beneath my finger nails. Drinking coffee on my parents’ porch. Homemade earrings. High fives. Hugs. Family time. Farmers' markets. Flannel shirts. Foxes. Fresh grated ginger. Kale. Knit hats. Knowing someone really well. Inscribing the inside of a book. Peeing outside. Picnics. Podcasts. Prayer flags. Poetry so good that it shapes the way I think. Porches. Postcards. Leather-boots. Libraries. Lingering over a meal. Live music. Making the first set of footprints in the snow. Mason jars. Mittens. Moonlit walks. Mountains. My hair right after I take it out of a ponytail post-running, when it’s still damp with sweat and wild from movement. Muffins. Quilts. Rivers. Road trips. Rock climbing at Ledges. Running. Sand dunes. Scarves. Scars. The scent of soil. The shifting of seasons. Sitting in silence with someone I love. Sledding. Sleeping outside. The smell of sawdust. Signing letters "Love." Starting the day slow. Stretching. Sun-shadowed floorboards. Stony beaches. Swimming at night. Used bookstores. Vegetable gardens. Walking long distances. Waking before dawn. Whiskey. Wood burning stoves. Wood floors. Wool socks.