Foggy mornings. Dreaming about London before breakfast. Neon pink flamingos. Winter caprese sandwich.

I lost my pocket compass the other day, somewhere between the park and my front door. I only noticed when I saw the geese flying overhead, swift and fast, as if they were being chased by a storm, and I couldn’t remember which way was North. Troublesome. Especially when the days all kind of meld together, which is okay except when you wake up thinking it is Monday, but really it’s already Thursday and then your bones are all out of place. And then it's hard just to get out of bed.