For the celebration of Interdependence, we gathered as a family at my son Jeff and his wife Jan’s home in San Jose. Their home and yard are serene with Senna, a loving rescue greyhound, a garden and view of open land. A short walk to the top of a nearby hill opens up a vista that is the perfect place to watch firework displays from all over the South Bay. Last night, the Fourth of July, I swiveled my head like an owl trying to catch each wondrous opening of color and sparks.
The crescent moon turned golden as it began to sink into the now smoky, as though saged, evening air. The moon felt close, like a guardian, a harbinger of hope. The gathering on the hill consisted of a variety of ages and languages. Children wore headbands of light and ran around freely, no fear.
Today I sink into the truth of interdependence, bounced as though in a hammock to my cells opening to the cells of plants, recognizing the value in the difference in our cell walls. I sink into silence and stillness; receive.
In that, I suggest with kindness that only senility can explain someone stating that the army took over airports in 1775. Such a person needs mental health care.
Home now, loaded with produce from Jeff and Jan’s gardens, I give thanks for abundance in my life, and recognition of, and celebration of change.