dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Thursday, August 01, 2019

beautiful morning

I noticed it was 78 degrees inside and 80 outside, according to my thermometer display thing.  I opened the door and stepped out into the courtyard.  Yes, very lovely out. 

The cats were having a cat party--many charming body patterns.  Rainbow, Catastrophe, and Wally / Wiley were near the gate.  Project 56, No. 1 was under a table.  I talked to them, saying good morning and telling them about their cuteness.

"Mew," Catastrophe said.

I walked up and down the concrete path, and the path felt good on my bare feet, a pleasant temperature and good texture of slight roughness.  I swung my arms around.  I felt alive and nourished by God.  The sky was helping me.

I felt--it's an honor to live in this weird world. 

Something last night when I was falling asleep--living in a house in the desert.  I'm in the desert, even if city is surrounding me.  The creosote bush, lizards, cactus, bright flowers, bugs, sky, sun, earth itself are all here with me, even in the city.

When I was a teenager, I glorified the desert, its starkness and special beauty.  I wanted to live in the desert.  Didn't know I would end up here.  Well, thank you for helping me get here.


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