It was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness

“I knew those were the best times” my mother told me once, describing the moment where her four children were in and out of the kitchen, talking, whining, grabbing at the cheese and bread she was slicing and walking in and out of the back door to the sun-filled, overgrown backyard.

I am afraid that my {best of times} might be now. In graduate school, collecting data, in autumn in New York, working at the museum, walking across the park on these exquisite days, stressing about the future, lucky to have something to look forward to, not slogging away at the same old boring job, stressors, surprises, loneliness, i-love-what-i-am-doing days followed by what-am-i-doing days... under 35 not sick or elderly. this may actually be it. trying to enjoy it, difficult to do with my personality, hunting for trouble or ennui that i can relate to.