Clouds like cattle, fattening and greying in the humid air, shuffle east in front of the sun, herded by a wind strong but not steady. Green leaves tremble below in the gusty indecision, pulsing alive when the light of day spills down through the shifting gaps. Lying in the soft but needly grass watching the changes overhead like slow frames of a passing film reel, I am overcome with the feeling that we all need different things. One plant's heaven is another man's hell. She is suffocated in his safe, happy place. He bristles anxiously at the exposure of her perfect, free, flowing day. One wants to settle here and one needs to move on. We are living proof, all of us, that there is life on other planets. There is only life on other planets. No two people share the same world. Meanwhile the ants crawl over my toes, plotting optimistically to remove the obstacle of my foot. A turkey buzzard passes in front of the sun, throwing my world into fleeting darkness. The clouds see none of this, stopping for a minute to graze on warming vapors rising from below while the wind is distracted. I know everything is best, just not for everyone at the same time.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
