Moss and Loam

Even though I grew up here in Washington, I've lived in the desert for so long that everything I used to take for granted is novel once more. The mountains, the architecture, the sea, the trees, and green green green everywhere I look.



I've been using my daily runs to explore the area, and this building keeps catching my eye. I love the moss that grows on every surface, the rust and lime and weathered wood window frames.

This morning I ran through a rain so fine it could only be described as a mist. Wild raspberry bushes lined the path, and if I ventured even a few feet away from the manicured residential areas, untamed overgrowth grew thick as a jungle.



It's easy to fall in love with everything in the summer. I have to remind myself that in the winter, it's so wet and cold that I'd likely be mildewing myself. But for now, I delight in every verdant detail, marvel in the breath that condenses the moment it escapes my mouth, and thrill at the smell of dark earth, moss and loam.