Good Grief 322

More struggle.
Beautiful days, as I've said before, can be the hardest.
One foot in front of the other, I walked the path...another line, one I don't have to think about.
Blinded by the sun, I flipped the lid on my head open and let the sun pour in.

This blip is for that sense, that feeling, of whatever it is that I can't quite expres but is to do with the thing that consistently meets, hears, holds, sits with. that which I can't express well.
That bit which makes a difference but is mighty hard to describe.

I was reading some stuff ahead of a work training day about rd and its all along those lines. I'll return to it perhaps.