As if by some strange magic, as if out of nowhere, a massive wave of depression crashes over me.

Fell magics are at work against me and dread once again grips me at night, past the witching hour and on through to the early morning pre-dawn.

Idle hands hasten the foul feelings that drift inside my mind.
I must stay busy lest I fall victim to sadness and sleep.

I find myself searching for something that is boxed up and a thousand miles away in mountain storage.
Sometimes it’s a book I seek and other times an artifact from adventures past, but mostly it’s a piece of home, comfort…familiarity.
Intangible items inside my head.

An afternoon storm crossed the lake yesterday, tumultuous and short lived, laden with rain and bursts of wind.
And though I was briefly distracted by the tempest, once again the dark thoughts returned, unease.

I am under a weird spell of separation from city and work.
A ranger returned to the wild, broken.
I’m finding it hard to relax and connect to this place and freedom once again.
I felt the same when I began my adventure in the city.
It took 2 years to adjust to that environment.
I observed even then the laughable reality of a ranger out of his environment and lost…until I figure it out.
And now, another change.

It is all for the good, of that I have no doubt, but this transition is difficult.
And of course, where do we go from here?

Uncertainty is the enemy.

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