I never thought I would say it, but I miss Spray. My pal Lindsay just posted a bunch of photos from our summer in the bush and I had no idea how badly I needed to see said photos until I laid eyes upon them. It is not necessarily the act of the job (the work itself was terrible), but it is the land, the air, wearing the same garbage clothes and boots everyday, the plain weathered skin, the frustration and the learning, the quiet, the wind that I miss. Everyday I miss it. I am not sure why, but it feels important and relevant. It is almost as if posting these images ensures that they will not be shaken loose from memory. I am unsure. Regardless, it was an important season and these people were a part of it. For that, I am grateful.
L, thank you for these and for the reminder itself. I miss you as well. I will write very soon dear woman.
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