Many gifts today;
Sunlight breaking through light snow falling on the garden.
Green tea steeping in a chipped cup with bluebells growing on the rim.
My son's guitar flowing from the dining room.
The thrust and hum of the dishwasher.
A new haircut.
Going to a sports store with my teenage son to buy him a fleece jacket in a companionable way.
Wearing a string of beads that I bought in a charity shop.
Eating a juicy orange.
Buying Bok Choy.
Feeding the cat.
Wanting to kiss the dog.
Driving out along the coast just for the hell of it and the thought crossing my mind that I could keep on going.
Coming home to a warm house.
Donning a pair of fleece socks that I bought in Santa Monica.
Wiping down the table.
Smiling at an old enemy I encountered on the street.
Wearing a big silly old hat because it acts like an oven on my head.
Clearing away the flower bed to make way for the encroaching daffodils.
Seeing the clarity in my son's face, wanting to tell him but deciding against it.
Sitting here writing this down with this pen in my left hand, loving how it moves, smooth and free across
this page almost like the prairie I once saw in New Mexico, near Angel Fire, it was this: - just a worn out
old fence, broken wire and yellowed grass, stretching out it seemed forever. I had never imagined how
beautiful that could be and I never saw it again. I will never forget it.