Through my jeans my rear end can feel a hint of dew from the cushion on the rocking chair. Neither butte nor I care, because I’ve got a bowl of warm oatmeal, nuts, raisins, and the extra delight of fresh raspberries from the magic stalks in the side yard. It’s holding warm in my friend Maya’s handmade bowl, my favorite go-to cereal bowl, the one with the glaze of speckled greens. A mug of aromatic freshly ground and brewed coffee steams in the humid air in that way that makes it taste so much better.
The mockingbirds and blue jays and song sparrows are chatting and flitting about collecting breakfast. A gray cat glances at me then hurriedly pads off the shut-in neighbor’s porch and down the concrete steps. Across the street a squirrel nonchalantly does his high-wire act on the cables spanning the poles. There’s a faint breeze.
All at once the shifting menagerie of secondary players takes second stage as the star, the sun, breaks through the clouds. Everything brightens. Clear golden rays spotlight the porch floor and make glowing patches on my jeans and sweatshirt. A sharp triangle of light erupts on the round porch table. The tips of the birds’ wings now flash silver as they zip past. The neighborhood is no longer coming awake, instantaneously it’s joyous. The earth rotated, the clouds momentarily parted, and a new day arrived. Extraordinary, really.