One Passing Moment

The creeping intrusion of woodfire in the air is an unwanted surprise. It strangely recolors my soundtrack--the soft hum of a distant lawnmower and syncopated chirps of birds home for the night. The aluminum bench by the stream out back is hard. Narrow. I imagine it as my rooted connection to the earth, as I watch the unfathomable brilliant light between the trees slowly descend. As it moves, the starburst pattern changes within the community of maples, where each strives to be the tallest. How grateful I am for this special moment and how it settles over any fleeting grievances, covering everything like the comfort of my childhood bedspread. Seeing the good, the beauty, and the countless gifts puts everything into an altered perspective. And, I am glad. --Jeannette Bondurant©