Night visitor on the trail cam tonight. A skunk, moving slowly and steady, tail swaying like a feather duster. I think she may be the same one I saw out back with three babies earlier this week. It feels like catching a small piece of her nightly rounds, a quiet rhythm of foraging and tending.
There is comfort in her return. The woods carry on their own stories, chapter by chapter, whether we notice or not.
Current mood: watchful
Current music: “First Breath After Coma” – Explosions in the Sky
Here’s your stacked mood chart by year 📊:
Green = Positive
Gray = Neutral
Red = Negative
This lets you see the balance of moods shift year to year:
Early years: heavier positive/neutral balance.
Mid 2000s–2010s: strong neutral dominance (lots of logs/links).
Late 2010s–2020s: negative share grows, especially around 2019 and again in 2024–25.
Here’s what the yearly mood trend shows:
📈 Early 2000s–2018: Mostly slightly positive on average. Big neutral stretches (lots of logging + links) diluted but didn’t overwhelm bursts of joy (pets, birthdays).
📉 2019: A big dip — very few posts, but negative-leaning.
⚖️ 2020–2023: Back to neutral-to-positive averages, though volume shrinks dramatically.
🌑 2024–2025: Noticeable downturn — fewer posts, with many leaning negative.
So across decades, the blog starts whimsical and balanced, dips around 2019, rebounds slightly during 2020–23, and shifts more negative in the last two years.
Morning air was soft in Roanoke, carrying the first golden turn of September light. Scissors at Misfit felt less like a cut and more like a quiet ritual of renewal. Outside, a few crows traced lazy arcs over the rooftops, and the faint smell of damp earth lingered from last night’s rain. I brought the meds and pumpkin spice latte home to my sweetheart. Her smile made the errand feel more like a small joy.
The Y called next, a short return to movement, body remembering itself. Home again, the laundry’s hum filled the rooms, spin and tumble counting minutes. Evening edged closer with the promise of family dinner, plates and voices gathering in the soft glow of the room. A squirrel paused atop the fence outside, twitching its nose as the last leaves of summer clung to branches.
Later, the smell of roasted vegetables drifted from the kitchen, a brief hum of music from a neighbor’s open window blending with the autumn breeze. A single leaf twirled down the sidewalk, catching the last light of day.
Current music: Rainy Day Lo-fi with Vinyl Crackle | Soft, Warm Ambience
Current mood: trimmed, light, leaning toward the warmth of the table
A quiet moment reminded me that ordinary days can hold small gifts if I pay attention.