not alone
Seventy-four degrees out here on 7H porch, Fahrenheit, seventy-nine percent humidity. A jetliner very high, beyond hearing, moving between Sirius and Orion’s belt, or it may have been a satellite. Lightning low and wide from west to east at the horizon over the Gulf of Mexico. A buzzy small boat moves one direction as a shrimp boat, bright with all her lights, heads across the western end of StAndrewsBay toward her dock at the marina.
The gentlest breeze, almost as undetectable as my PSA score, from off the Bay. And cool that at first I thought I’d left slightly ajar the sliding door behind me.
Yesterday breakfast, thick slice of perfect, densely chocolate birthday cake. Long nap. Yesterday, unwashed, mentally unwinding, we moved porch furniture and plants from their hurricane shelter filling the living room, back to their assigned spaces where I now sit sipping and typing. Saturday dinner, hotdog with sauerkraut on one side and chili on the other, and a thick slice of perfect, densely chocolate birthday cake. Crescent moon over high-rise condos lining PCB.
Some other Being, fully and equally as alive as I, currently shares 7H porch space with me, self-proclaimed by an intermittent high pitched sound. Almost like my chair squeaking but not. An insect, maybe protesting the porch light.
Still lightning on the southern horizon beyond Shell Island, and the end of the September 2017 tunnel is in sense if not quite yet sight.
Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
DThos+
The gentlest breeze, almost as undetectable as my PSA score, from off the Bay. And cool that at first I thought I’d left slightly ajar the sliding door behind me.
Yesterday breakfast, thick slice of perfect, densely chocolate birthday cake. Long nap. Yesterday, unwashed, mentally unwinding, we moved porch furniture and plants from their hurricane shelter filling the living room, back to their assigned spaces where I now sit sipping and typing. Saturday dinner, hotdog with sauerkraut on one side and chili on the other, and a thick slice of perfect, densely chocolate birthday cake. Crescent moon over high-rise condos lining PCB.
Some other Being, fully and equally as alive as I, currently shares 7H porch space with me, self-proclaimed by an intermittent high pitched sound. Almost like my chair squeaking but not. An insect, maybe protesting the porch light.
Still lightning on the southern horizon beyond Shell Island, and the end of the September 2017 tunnel is in sense if not quite yet sight.
Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
DThos+