Notes from the Editor’s Desk — 5/2/22

A deep knotting up of the air, whereby the murky green is wrung, pervades outside the tent, whose walls shiver in the worrisome atmosphere. From the campsite, I think it wise to walk to the shore of the lake and along the shore of the lake. Above the air that is immediate to sense, the horizon appears aflame. Water behaves in a troublesome manner, a manner reminiscent of the tent. Boats upon the shore struggle beneath their tarps. Considering unfinished works, structures without growth, as are the trees this time of year, a lightning bolt makes good on nature’s indifferent promise. Within myself are matters unrecorded illuminated for an instant. Rain breaks out, as the divisions of atmospheres, the greener heavy air, now dripping, and the far off pacific enormity, even out their opposite tempers. Tents distant now, small figures upon a flooded hillock, and with threats breaking out from on high, crashing near to me, I turn and access every recess for its adequacy. None suffice for shelter.