Sitting in my lawn chair in the early warmth of the sun. Coffee beside me, and cigerettes, but i have no desire for either. I work a night shift now and every morning feels like the possibilities of life are opened up with the rising of the great golden sun in the pink-clouded sky, warmth rising into my fridgid jacket as i leave work, light upon my tired eyes as i drive the few blocks home. And then i think it as an early death, or ubrupt, unexpected end that i realize i will lie down to sleep soon and not awake until darkness covers the earth again. As all of those possibilities are torn from my eyes, from my life, from what will be.
And so i refuse to let it happen, and i wait for the sun to become an early fire uopn the earth, and i go into my backyard and sit in my chair, and soak it up in silence by myself.
And think about all the things i have to be greatful for, that i never seem to be thankful for. While i consume my energies with self centered problems that i have created over the years, ways of relating to life that i have decided to be over the years, i ask for patience from The Is All to help me see how i've pushed away the things that most matter, how i can set aside such things and ways and be greatful for this time i've been granted, future unknown, past gone forever.

Sunlight, rocks beneathe my naked feet, the compact disks my mother hung from the fruit trees make rainbows and sunbeams moving across the yard like mobiles. I open the rabbit-proof gate of the garden my mother and father built while i was away this fall. walk amongst the cabbage and marigolds, basil, rosemary, apple and lemon mint. I get on my knees and pick up a handful of dirt, digging my feet into the garden soil. Thinking, God, it's been forever since i've done this. I smell every herb, taking deep breaths as i cup each in my hands. i did the same with the tangellos and oranges as i picked each one.

Bogavellia creates a wall on the west side. Rabbits frequent our yard and neighborhood. People have seen coyotes but i've never been lucky enough. grapefruit, tangellos, oranges, mexican birds of paradise, peaches and an assortment of birds i don't know the names of. Sunlight, Bluesky, Warm Breezes. Dog shit. My medium sized mut, snickers, looks into the light as i do, a gaze unfocused, fixed on the feelling of warmth as it were, and not anything in particular; (Is that a rabbit? Are those pidgeons in my yard?). I get up and make my rounds with a plastic grocery bag, considering it an honor, somehow, to be picking up after my dog's feces.