We’re having a heat wave so last night I went outside for two reasons, one to cool off and two to listen to music from a high school graduation party down below us. The music was fantastic, a live band, vibrant with the rise and fall, the depth and expansiveness of full, generous voices. The music crossed genres, and soulfully felt like a night in New Orleans. The last song at ten was The Saints Go Marching In.
When I heard the music beginning at seven, I brought a blanket and pillow out and lay on the deck looking up at wispy clouds and blue sky that became the rising of the moon and the first star. As day turned into night, I turned inside and out, massaged on life so easily and blissfully shared.
I woke up this morning shimmering like a tuning fork, grateful for each breath, the in and out, lungs so beautiful in their handling of and care for air. Our little bird friend is still resting on her nest, and yesterday I was at a friend’s house where a mourning dove nests like our little wren. Meanwhile flowers are everywhere.