I hover on the earth’s resonance, leaving myself behind in the garden.
Looking down I see a pale yellow soft mouth with rare rounded wings. She swirls around the baby blue plumbago, which is sticky now but fuller than ever.
The grasshoppers tread softly on the earth, one atop the other.
(The story goes that she sings him a soft, quiet song as he poses. He approaches and climbs on her. They copulate for as long as it is destined. She may exercise her free will and carry him around for a while. If she chooses not to, he will casually fall from her back.)
Today, she carries him and supports his entire weight for their walk. In a turtle’s fashion, they creep up and over the rock perimeter of my garden and disappear.
I laugh at how the painted and animated scenery lulled me graciously to sleep this afternoon…
The vibrations are far from the stubborn perceptions that seek to blind me. How easily we ingest the muck of speculations and half-truths and miss the sublime messages standing upright.
The cobwebs are spun and woven, capturing thoughts and beliefs. Some can be likened to the erratic web of the black widow. We feel trapped and falsely emboldened by the luxurious dragline silk, and our ego can resonate well with that. Other webs bring us full circle, spun like the concentric web of the spiny orb weaver.
Brushing the cobwebs aside, I flee back through the realm and inside to prepare supper.
Afterward, the pre-dusk light streams in the window, drawing me out again. These colors fade in and out so fast at this time of day that if you blink, you miss them.
The golden light shimmers and flames the treetops. Soon, the yellow tone pales and diminishes quickly under a thick wall of cumulus clouds.
The wind begins stirring in the east. Scattered droplets of rain fall on my cheek as I bend to stroke my loyal feline companion. We turn back toward the door, but the light is changing again. I whirl around and look up. Behold, the heavens deliver a rainbow and rest it upon the thick gray cloud wall.
I walk to the open ground for a better view and stumble when I see the full rainbow. By His grace, He strengthens my faith with these spectacular, endearing moments.
A bright white wispy cloud directly centered at the height of the rainbow reminds me of the sun behind me on the horizon. The rainbow’s colors are not blended across bands, as some are. The blue and red light refractions are the truest spectral colors I’ve ever seen.
The west takes on a golden light baked by the eastern sky before it. An artist couldn’t have painted a more glorious sky. I twirl around, sighing, “Oh my,” oh my. The colors all fade to gray within minutes.
The encore arrives. A brush full of deep lavender paints the sky to my west, drowning out the remains of the light of the day. Dusk quickly follows, laying out a blanket for all the earth to rest upon.
