The flowers have arrived. It is the beginning of the party. Everyone is looking their best, having just emerged from the winter doldrums. The wind stops by and shimmers some skirts and shirts and then is off. Wisteria wine is served, and the bumblebees catch up on the months underground.
Rio and I and Stella head out to the path by the river, and it’s so lush I’m ready for snakes but only the thought of them arrives, even that making Rio and I shiver. It was a lazy morning, the kind where time seems to halt and become a giant vessel to climb into.
Now Annie and Rio are making cupcakes, and I look at a poster of Obama next to our window and I think of his graceful words to two parents grieving their murdered son and I think of Ram Dass in Fierce Grace how he reached out to those who had lost and opened up his hand which had inside a flash of light and I come back to my general belief that the world is good. I can get hot under the skin, and I’m a brittle pane of glass if I haven’t breathed in a while. Yet one big inhale and wellness clears its throat and says Glad you’re back.