Charcoal clouds hover, too high to drop their load just yet, but they darken and grow heavier with every step I take. Soon. The clouds barely move, and the air here, on the ground, is still. There’s something about the light on an overcast day. Every leaf, twig and flower is vibrant with texture and […]
Murgatroid the Cat and I slip from the bed, careful not to wake Cheyenne. It is dark, still, and even the birds are silent, though dawn can’t be long in coming. Murg pads silently through the open door to the screened porch. I follow, wrapping my sweatshirt-soft kimono tightly to keep in the bed-warmth. The […]
On my back, I give myself a Reiki treatment. Heat flows under my hands, spreading through skin, muscles, bones, organs–warmer and warmer, now hot. If I saw my body from above, would my abdomen glow like hot coals?
Cougar stands, stretches her strong, muscled body long, longer, front legs far out in front, almost touching my toes. She widens her paws and flexes her claws, each one big as an eagle’s beak, then draws back her legs, bends her head, stretches her neck and licks my toes.
Janine has woven the greens, browns, and yellows of the hills, the muted colors of the woods on one side, and the brilliant splotches of the flowering meadows in front. I can smell the rich moldy soil of the woods underfoot and the crisp drying grasses in the summer heat.
In silence, hearing only the sound of each other’s breath and our own heartbeats, we experience our selves together yet separate.
For the first time, we see one of Rose’s paintings, a work in progress: Bubble poppies bobbing in the breeze as a storm approaches the top of the hill.
Murgatroid steps across my hands, brushing her bushy black tail under my nose. But she doesn’t like the loamy soil. Dirties her paws. She soon retreats to the edge of the grass, where she plops down, spreads her forelegs back and over her head and exposes her underbelly to the morning sun.
I waken gently from a dream of wildflowers blowing on the hillside. Murgatroid’s soft paw rests against my cheek. The room is dark under the new moon. Cool air lifts the gauzy curtain at the window, graceful spectre.