thick heat & hazy gold light

Woke up late, which isn’t usual, but maybe necessary. The air was already syrupy with warmth, pressing in through the windows before I’d even had a sip of coffee. Sat with the fan buzzing like a lazy hornet, flipping through a dog-eared field guide of native plants. There’s comfort in names—sweetspire, ironweed, bloodroot—like knowing the password to the green parts of the world.

Walked a slow loop in the early afternoon. The shade was a mercy. Dragonflies hovered like living stitches over puddles that hadn’t fully surrendered to the sun. Heard a woodpecker knocking at something deep in the trees—each tap like a code I couldn’t quite translate.

Pulled a single rune today: Laguz — water, intuition, the hidden current.
Fitting. Everything today felt submerged, like looking at life through a murky lens. Not unpleasant, just… deeper. Like something’s stirring below the surface.

Listened to an old radio drama while sorting through laundry in my closet.  One of those crackly, noir-voiced tales full of long shadows and double-crosses. Felt strangely comforting. The kind of story where nobody’s innocent but someone always tries to do right, even if it’s messy.

Dinner was roasted vegetables, chilled white bean salad, a chunk of bread big enough to be dangerous. Kept it simple. Let the quiet fill the space.

Now the cicadas are singing their electric hymn outside, and the sky’s starting to bruise at the edges. Might write a letter I’ll never send. Might just sit and listen.

🌒 Let the tide carry you, dear journal