Here?

Later than usual, picking a route across the freshly fallen goodness. No room right now for downs, only ups as the picture clears and winter arrives. Silently rolling over the covered path, I know what's there, what isn't hiding beneath. Filling the legs to empty the head, pockets are another story. I've had a little help lately, thanks to 1554 and the Mothership sleep comes and then leaves only a bit early, not a lot, maybe the ghosts are going away? Looking for octopus at sunset adds new work to the end of my day, the inky glow is there just not as clear as early. The ghosts and the octopus are working together. Hiding my ink from the morning, moving it to the end of the day.