ALIVE IN ITS WAVE

17 of #100daychallenge 

Two heads popped up through the too-tall weeds and grass in the jungleyard. McCoy and Fox were two exploring boys, I would swear doing some role-playing fantasy search game. Except that they are cats and they are likely bug chasing. I left Janet's window ajar last night. When I stepped into her room to wake her, the scent of jasmine was dizzying. So far, it is cool, great weather for gardening, but I am not yet ready to hang out in the front yard.

There should ...

That was hours ago. At least I tried writing early. Another day slipped by. By the time I did some banking errands that required Janet and dropped her off for lunch, it was getting on in the afternoon. I had some time to kill, not really long enough to do much of anything, before I had an appointment to get new tires installed, finally. The bonus there was that my new reading glasses were ready to pick up. Let me tell you, it is mighty fine to be able to see closely. I haven't tried any book reading yet, but even this typing bidness is improved.

Los Lobos did an in-studio concert today. Although someone shot the show, I was trying to get some plants planted before they were 100% dead, rather than just ailing.  I just listened. So many weeds, so much grass to pull. The roses are doing great and I will try to get a snap or two tomorrow.

Still thinking about getting a fence built. Did not see the neighbors, so that was nice. Every time I hear their iron front door slam, I wince. Not a pleasant way to live. But hey, these are first world problems. Bad  neighbors are an age old story. Someone should do a compilation of bad neighbor stories.

I even did some prep for my mini-yoga class tomorrow. I am glad I am taking the slow path to developing into a teacher. I don't feel the stress that I would were I teaching a full-on Hatha or Vinyasa class. As it is, I can build on what I started with earlier this week. To that end, I pulled out some anatomy cards to give them a more graphic idea of what sits bones are and what your cervical spine looks like. I think this a good way to go for them and for me. 

I need a bath to clean off the gardening dirt. I am happy to report that at least one bud on the cherry tree is now a blossom, so I didn't kill the tree after all. If it is photo-worthy in a few days, I will snap one. 

This one is for my yoga peeps.

THE MOMENT AGAIN

In breath, where kingdoms hide,

one little turn at the end

is king, again, again, again.

That moment hides in the breath

to be time’s king: others may vaunt;

that one will never pretend.

The moment that hides in the breath

to be king when kingdoms end

wait when you dial a number:

wire hums; day blooms; light

breaks into a cave; a faint 

calm voice floats forward —

You remember a screen door slam,

a scribble of sound, other days.  . . .

Then the moment hides in the breath

to be time’s king moves away,

alive in its wave, never in haste,

as you say “Hello” to whoever it is,

Waiting again.

— William Stafford, Stories That Could Be True, Harper and Row, New York, 1977