Rainbows

Bits of color and movement punctuate my backyard, a living collage that seems to celebrate life. Blue jays, purple finches, rosebreasted grosbeaks, red wing blackbirds, cows birds, purple starlings, a robin, flickers, mourning doves, sparrows, vireos, juncoes, creepers, and ravens jockey for space as the chipmunks and red squirrels dart in and about greedily filling their cheeks with seeds. It's good to be home. It has rained since I got here, everyday, and the river rages; but life goes on without missing a beat. it is always so easy to fold into this life without a hitch, without a wrinkle.

There hasn't been a day go by without a friend or acquaintance or two stopping by to catch up on old news and share a cup of coffe or tea at my kitchen table. Their winter stories and individual selves are just as colorful and entertaining as the wildlife out back. It's been an extraordinary winter--little snow, lots of cold, early spring, and first bone-dry, now flooding, then snow last night. As my Dad used to say, "If you don't like the weather, just wait, it'll be different tomorrow."

I met with the Docotor before I left, less than a week after the last operation. She says, no problem, "go forth and prosper." I say I dodged a bullet this time and I left the city as fast as I could before anything changed and got between me and my healing place. So I am home, my touchstone, and the sun just peeked out for about 20 minutes, and now a rainbow skims the tops of the white mountains. I will chock the pot belly stove full tonight, and I will sleep well.