“There are bleeding hearts beneath the Elder trees by my driveway. They are growing wild, I did not plant them there. I sat to contemplate them today, while I had a rolly smoke. There was a slight drizzle, and it made the leaves and petals gleam, as a small bit of sunshine came with a surprise.
Later I walked to the river, to hear what she was whispering.
There was an owl in my trees after the sun set, calling softly into an empty night, gracing my ears bereft of music. I swayed with the sound, and said hello… Perhaps he heard me.
The little moments are precious to me… I hold them closely, sheltering them from the harsh winds of change with the warmth of my body. It was an excellent day, a beautiful day, a glorious, lonely, silent day… But I will lie and say it was ordinary, if you were to ask me… Just an ordinary day…”