Everything begins again (stones from South Great Beach, Point Reyes National Seashore)

In the spirit of Roland Barthes: I like cumulous nimbus clouds, cathedrals, crossword puzzles, topographic maps, color-coded-anything, fog horns, writing with nice pens, the sound of foot falls on earth or snow or mud or dried leaves, cooking meals for people that I love, thermoses that don't leak, chopping vegetables, orating my dreams, petting dogs, taking surveys, getting dressed up (but only once in a while), sleeping in a cold room under many blankets, cellos, autumn, olives, riding in a car full of people, trombones, rust, striped socks, setting the table before a dinner party, walking barefoot on warm sandstone, getting letters in the mail, electric guitars, adventurous conversation, bright clashing colors, driving on long lonely highways, first kisses, woolen socks, sore muscles, jumping in the air,most shades of green, mid-century modern design, old ladies who like to talk, pinot noir and sauvignon blanc, good burritos, honesty, landscapes where open spaces meet the mountains, hugging my mother and feeling her soft cheek against my own, laughing uncontrollably, being alone in vast wildernesses, similes, coffee and cigarettes in the morning, when people touch me on the knee or the shoulder when they are talking to me, the smell of pine trees, sage bushes, and eucalyptus, dusk, bald men, intentionality, flying on airplanes, falling asleep with my head on someone's shoulder, spinach, Kansas, dancing (especially with my sister), acknowledged friendships, bulldozers, Thanksgiving, photo albums, tulips, 1960's Jaguars, house slippers, gas stoves, eye contact, the smell of basil, theremins, waking up slowly, thinking about wind and waves and currents,