Looking Outside

We were home. The sky was shimmering with sheets of color. Another rainbow, a fainter one, also appeared beside it.

A particular hilltop in the distance was shining like gold, and as the sunset progressed, we were surrounded by the glow and colors, all of it pouring into the sea.We had come home to a week of rainbows and amazing grace.

In a larger context, the Supreme Court had upheld affordable health care and marriage equality, the Confederate flag was belatedly lowered in acknowledgement of its painful and dissonant meaning, and in a moving eulogy for the victims of the Charleston shooting, President Obama spoke of gun control...and goodness...and grace.

You know how it is with hope. You find it where you can, invent it if you can't, breathe your own life into it, act accordingly. What else are we to do?

Home. Atop a tall plump cactus growing in a pot on our deck, two luminous red flowers have bloomed, and I can hear the song of the canyon wren and the hosannah rustle of the leaves in the treetops, everything so alive.

Meanwhile, Jupiter and Venus are drawing close together, already bright and dazzling. Tomorrow night I'll be watching for their convergence, Star of Bethlehem style.

I have investigated the inside of my head and find it wanting. For now, I look beyond.