Carol Emshwiller

So today just goes along all by itself. I'm floating in it as if there isn't such a thing as time, and as if there isn't anything I need to think about at all. Everything is slow. There's no hurry. It's as if time itself is saying, "All in good time." I notice everything. The clouds have that funny circular look they say is typical over mountains, but I've seen clouds like this all my life so they're just regular clouds to me. Quail coo to their little cotton-ball babies and the babies trot after them as fast as their little toothpick legs will go. It's as if the smallest things -- or big things, too -- as if everything is very important, and I only began to notice that. I wonder if this is just for today or if this is how I'll see things from now on. I wonder if it's because of what Hen and I did. If that changed my whole view. I wonder if even more things have changed and I haven't noticed yet. I wonder if this is how things really are. But they are! All you have to do is notice. It's as if it's always silvery moonlight, or always that orange look, like after it rains. It would be nice if I keep on seeing this way. Except I can't think. Maybe this is instead of thinking. I don't know, maybe I'd rather be thinking.

     And what about love in all this? Has that got anything to do with anything?