another almost rainy day in durango

not to say that this happens frequently by any means in a place like durango, but the past two days have been one of the 60 non-days of sunshine in a while.  i can't say i mind it- it matches my own familiar melancholy, and i appreciate the excuse it gives me to sit in a coffee shop and drink a good pour over house blend, and write.  lil miss lori cheever explained to me the other day that my blog was like a quick glance on the inner workings of my mind- i am not so sure how i feel about that, but i do know that it is turning into quite the lil hobby and that being real and relatively vulnerable in most of my endeavors is kind of how i work.  it doesn't always work out in my best interest, but i think i am starting to get the hang of it more and more... allowing it to be my greatest gift and NOT my greatest demise. 
i have been trying to think of a way that i can hone in my blog a little bit more...
i want to be able to offer something to people who read this, other than lil pieces of my heart that someone might nor really want or feel awkward about recieving.  but that might mean i have to learn a skill or trade or topic to cover like knitting, or baking pies, or canning food, or politics, or sex, well enough to be able to teach it... and i dont quite have the time for that at the moment seeing as i am about to be single and moving to hawaii.  although, there are a plethora of skills and trades and knowings of the world that i would love to explore and share and know well enough to teach (politics maybe not so much... but i do need to work on my naivete of the subject).  ok moving on from my incessant rambling.. i do have something i wanted to offer to anybody who comes across this post.
 it has to do with the melancholy of this almost rainy day, and the soft footsteps of autumn approaching-the slightly less vibrantly green trees, the way the day looks like it posseses a bite of chill to it, but really it is just a kiss, the fact that we can ride phil's world in the mid-day sun, and find a parking spot on main on a saturday, the little hole in my heart that has begun to form in the absense of summer sweat, and watching my friends and loved ones go through new cycles, endings to form new beginnings, closing doors to open new ones, times they are a-changing... so here is a little prayer... for anyone and everyone experiencing transition, little and larger holes in the heart, endings for beginnings, the bite of loneliness instead of the kiss of partnership... someday i will write my own, for now i borrow the words of Rabbi Rami M. Shapiro:

Life and death,
a twisted vine sharing a single root.

A water bright green
stretching to top a twisted yellow
only to wither itself
as another green unfolds overhead.

One leaf atop another
yet under the next;
a vibrant tapestry of arcs and falls
all in the act of becoming.

Death is the passing of life.
And life
is the stringing together of so many little passings.