Night steals the last of the suns aureate rays, willing the shadows to coalece and form into dusk as I sit. Each soft rustle of the breeze among the oaks speaks eons of questions and tears, eons of laughter and hushed words. Though it calms and humbles me to sit amongst them, I bear a small knot of fear..no perhaps not fear, apprehension. Like I am missing some piece of a puzzle, some muttered word, a memory I cannot quite recall, or a glimpse from the corner of my eye that evades me when I turn to look. Its these darn trees, of that I have no doubt. Their tall looming forms bear down above me, the weight of their age settles on my shoulders, tangible, thick. All the answers I have ever wished to posses rest somewhere in the countless rings of a forests boles. It has seen so much pass, how can it not? Yet it is unaccessable, and more annoying for its ever present brush against my conscious.

Each little bird that appears with a note brings a hint of a smile to my lips, in the past week I have missed much, lost much and regained more than I ever could have hoped for. It does not matter what has transpired, and my heart no longer seeks the vindication it once did. It no longer bears the scars of holding on to the bitter regret of not letting itself speak its piece. There is no peace found in the destruction of something else, only ever regret.

I did not think that I would ever find my way here again, that I would ever feel or do anything that wasnt tinged with an acrid taste to coat my words. It seems perhaps I was wrong, as often I am, as often is the case. Compassion comes without forcing now, at least it has today. I can only beg the breeze that it continues, and that my bitterness does not return to me.

Somewhere in all this mess I managed to hold on to the people who mean the most, I miss them each with a vigor I knew not I had. I have lost people, a few that I regret, a few that I am surprised about and a few that it was long time I learnt the nature of their intentions. No matter how much you long for a person to be what you think, you cannot change them at all...that...is ultimately what my heart and soul needs to learn.

Alas, I am babbling again, is there no end to my constant chatter? The moon sits low on the horizon, bathing the edges of the leaves in the subtle glow of light. Dusk has passed well and truly into the maiden hours of night while I have tallied here and gleaned no knowledge from the ever present whisper of the breeze at all. A waste of precious moments? Nay, not while I take time to settle myself, my heart, my breath.

From here I have only future to press upon my mind, where I take the course of my life from here. There is much I would do, much I would rectify and much I should leave well alone.

One thing is certain though, a little laughter is well overdue.