It’s late afternoon on a lazy July day.
The sky above the trees is downtrodden, overcast and grey . The pelting staccato of rain on brick keeps me from venturing any farther into the yard.
I just stand and listen.
A siren wails in the distance as one by one, the swish of cars drive by on wet pavement.
Birds chirp and squeak as a plane roars by overhead.
A whispering rush of soft wind caresses branches and leaves and then disappears.
The gurgling dance of water cascades out of a garden fountain.
The air conditioner cranks on and starts to hum.
I turn to go back in and leave this cacophony of life in my yard.
A few more random thoughts to contemplate on.
With all this state-of-the-art digital infrastructure for people to interact remotely with each other, how do I simply pat someone on the back?
If there’s power in one to corrupt then there’s power in one to correct. When does one become the other?
I had a dream the other day. I was on a bus with no pants and no compass. What does that mean?
I’m grateful for real friends. Real friends don’t hold back their honesty, curiosity and emotions.
If change were easy, we’d never reflex back to old ways.