I don’t yet have access to the photos that I had fully intended on pairing with this pinot-strawberry jam of a thought because some live as negatives on film and others live in a compartment of my brain that I lost the key to. Since I arrived on the light side of the country, I’ve made lovers and friends and friends of lovers. I’ve seen varieties of cherries and raspberries that I didn’t know existed and tasted their sweet venom, poisoned and tricked into wanting more. My neighbors have high hedges to keep reality blocked out, others no hedges at all. I no longer lose my breath climbing the Capitol Hill, and I’m a capital “B”, Better Version of Myself. I’m finding the parts of myself that were lost like Tom Robbins’ can’o’beans and sock left behind by lovers in the heat of the moment. The heat of this moment may keep me up at night, but the rain always comes back in the Pacific Northwest.