Columbus, Mississippi

Pleasantly exhausted in a brain-fogged kinda way. As a writer, I feel compelled to document every experience, pour out thousands of words about everything that crosses my path. But sometimes there are no words.

I can’t tell you the name of this bridge, can’t tell you anything about it except that it’s in Columbus, Miss. along the spectacularly beautiful Riverwalk — a hidden treasure in a city replete with them.

I could write about how very, very blue the sky seemed, how the wind whipped my cashmere scarf and sent it flying. I could write about how the sunlight warmed my bones into a languid pool, how I breathed so deeply that I could feel it rush from my feet to my head, scattering the tension that so often ties my body in knots.

Or then again, maybe I could learn to let experience stand on its own, without feeling the need to pin it down and claim ownership by syntax. I’m happy. And for once in my life, maybe that’s enough.

Music: Heart of Blues by Jude Cole (lyrics)