Notes

I spent time with a hummingbird this morning, both of us drawn to the orange cape honeysuckle whose trumpet-shaped flowers rise above the wall of the deck at the front of the house. The hummingbird sipped at nectar as I sipped my coffee and then we each went on our way.It's unseasonably hot, but it takes nerve to complain when there are low tides, big waves, whales spouting, rosemary in bloom, grassy hills, oranges dropping from the trees, noisy cows with new calves in the canyon. Not like February in any world I ever knew.

I like the cow with the white leggings. I call her Lucy. She reminds me of a lady in a painting by Toulouse Lautrec, her tights and teats for all to see as she wanders through the gaudy green flanked by bovine sisters and a noisy bull.

Our little neighbor Virginia served us perfectly brewed pretend-tea in her penguin pajamas. My friend Cornelia has a blue floor streaked in different tones of aqua and sunlight, and bird of paradise flowers in a pitcher by the window.

I am here and now and in love with life and I'm trying to stay in this mind set.

Oh I do remember the people I loved who also loved life and deserved a lot more of it, but I'm here and now and breathing, hanging my feet over the cliff of mortality.