Sitting Again Con/Jur/d, 5/29/2022 Up before everyone else quick canned oatmilk latte with reishi, lion’s mane to shake the fog from the night before still lingering between dreams of dreaming and the false ‘I’ we call awake trying not to disturb The Sleepers who are at least being honest with themselves, take the camp chair in the corner by the wooden porch rail, settling in with headphones and their captured zazen bell, partially screening the riot of bullfrogs, peepers, snorting bucks and early worm hunters, settling in confronting the usual day plans the emails mistakenly read, giving up deeper, deeper, and deeper landing in the nothing calm the tractionless traction and become the loud scritching scratch and just there, so fast barely notice differentiate between inside and out eyes open, a few inches away a red-breasted nuthatch attacking my glasses You notice their eyes are open so with a final loud nut crack you fling away their disappointing bifurcated branch and with a sharp scolding fly quickly away.
Off to do
Much love,
Con/Jur/d, 5/29/2022
Captures it beautifully. All is temporary.