THE NATURE OF MY DAY

August 25, 2019

Morning.
A gnat joins me at the kitchen counter as I read my meditations. It leaps backward, scrambles forward, turns in circles. It slips under my book, pops out and whirls again, a dervish seeking ecstasy - or protesting invasion of territory by a stinky human.

In the bath, a tiny spider – barely a speck – wanders the edge, skirts blobs of water in which it would surely drown.

Afternoon.
On the patio, a whir of wings brings me eye to eye with slender, neon bright hummingbird. It breaks hover when I speak, darts and guzzles from orange trumpet blossoms, then zings to the sky.

Beside the river path, geese yank and tear at grass, their plump bellies threatening to tip them over. Maples edged in crimson foretell approach of autumn.

Evening.
The shy tuxedo cat next door has been alone two days. Though her owner claims she won’t approach humans, she trots over and rubs against my leg. Her eyes glaze as I pet and soothe her with kitty talk.