TheJune humidity and lush lawn growth have given way to mid-July heat and the browning of the grass that happens every year.
The mowing was easy, but the sweat still came freely.
I move into the deep shade on my patio lounge and slowly put the full weight of the week into a chair.
The mid-afternoon sky is pure blue, with towering, puffy-white clouds that glide quietly past the opening in the canopy of old-growth maples.
I settle deeper into the lounge and feel my fatigue drain through it and into the earth. The shade further envelopes me.
A woodpecker softly taps out his midday meal, joined by robins calling to each other across the field.
If you lie very still, you can actually feel the earth rotate.
A small propeller plane putters nearby and I wonder where it’s heading.
The ice in the sweet tea settles to the glass bottom with a soft clunk, becoming as comfortable as I am.
I open my eyes and the sky is darker blue, with purple at the edges of the opening in the trees, and I hear the rhythmic tapping of knife on board from the kitchen.
Then, the spit and hiss as dinner is tossed into hot sesame oil in the ancient wok, and the intoxicating smell of pork belly, spring onions and garlic fills the air.
If I stay perfectly still, I can remain in this moment, like when you try to stay in a beautiful dream.
This may be heaven.
