ode to the amsterdamse bos

where we did not go today. and even though we went yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before, and i can't remember the day before that, but the odds are... and even though we are going tomorrow, and maybe the day after, and most certainly the day after, and the day after... despite, or perhaps because of this, today i find myself passionately missing the amsterdamse bos, which i might never have found if it wasn't for... and i might never have returned to if it wasn't for... and where the spirit of summer resides permanently, and all is welcome as it is, and the air is sweeter, and the water softer, and the birds more familiar, and the grass greener (really), and the breeze gentler, and the sun brighter, and the shade more appeasing, and the trees more grounded, and the flowers more beautiful, and the soul more peaceful, and time in less of a hurry, than in any other place i know. and so i sit here, and sift through 1000 remarkably similar photographs, looking for those bits that i am missing most, at the risk of falling into repetition. and maybe this is madness, and maybe it is love, and maybe it is simply summer, i don't know. but i do know where i will be tomorrow...