Stillness

Quiet descends on our neighborhood. Or maybe it rises out of the soil. The boisterous boys with monster toys, have charged off, and the rest of us can finally be heard. Misty morning, I crawl from bed, put on robe and crocs, step outside, and hear Spike&Mike come out their door.

"Did you hear me come out?" asks Mike.

"No, I just happened to come out at the same time," says I.

"Still in your pjs," he laughs kindly.

This is the level of our conversation. I pointed out the tree on the porch that I scavenged on his intel. We chatted about being allergic to christmas trees as I ruffled Spike's ears and told him what a good dog he is. Spike liked the smell of my robe.

Dylan and I made eggs and baked the frozen ham croissants, hot tea with half&half. We will walk around the park later, like we walked Boston Common on this holiday before.

2005

Solstice. Standing still.