The almost full moon behind mottled clouds. Scissortails squabbling in flight, creating seasonal patterns against a sterling dusk sky. When sunrise comes the following day, it is nothing spectacular, just a palette of pale pastels in reddish shades. The river wanders, ever-moving, never content to stay. No ducks today, nor herons, nor fish to see undulating in the shallows. Only the moan of tires echoing on the steel of the bridge, the changing traffic lights, from green to yellow to red. The long pause. A deep breath. Waiting for what is to come. Perhaps more rain, which would be beautiful after the months of drought and heat. Fifty-five degrees feels like heaven after days of over 100, though it requires the wearing of a coat with a hood to keep the ears from whining. Nothing rises up to be pondered or resolved. Nothing puzzles the mind nor troubles the heart. Only steady, solemn steps on stone, concrete, asphalt, hesitating to go across a mown field for fear of beggar lice, commonly called “stick tights” or burrs, which would shift shoelace bows into impossible tangles. No dogs barking. No cats springing out from under parked cars. Quiet. Calm. Peaceful. At ease. Noticing a scintillating shimmer that radiates from the solar plexus and energizes arms into swinging and legs into skipping. A smile appears, not big, not apparent, but subtle and shy. Nothing special, not really. Just life. Simply accepting the everydayness that underlies everything.
~LJ