moping

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I went for a walk yesterday. I think I’m moping, which, come to think of it, is probably a normal activity for this time of year. It’s silly — I have time again, and solitude, which, come to think of that, is not the worst thing in the world.

So, as I’m walking, I hear from N. She’s made it to Chile. She can see the Pacific, but where she is it’s not as pretty as it is up here. She’s on her way to Santiago, and from there to Argentina to meet up with her friend E. I send her the picture of the calves above. She tells me she’s seen vicuñas and that they’re funny looking. I look them up later and they’re kind of rare, but she saw a lot from the bus.

Later I hear from M. She lost a lot of pictures in a terrible phone thing. She’s sad, but plowing ahead.

So, I’m not entirely disconnected.

It’s horribly dry, and the air is not good, but the views are still good.

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2 thoughts on “moping

  1. Do you ever worry about getting like the stereotypical mother in the jokes? The one who greets every call with a notification of how long it’s been since the caller last called? (I do.)

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