The quality of light is different here.
It slants down through the trees and lands squarely on your hands holding a newspaper.
And my heart contracts with pure pleasure at just being here at this moment.
This air so different than home.  Redolent of history and rich in all that came before. Oakey and thick.
Creaking carriage wheels and the rustling of skirts.
Time slows down and stretches out before me. Buzzing and lazy.

Warrior friend your eyes tell me every thing i need to know. all the answers to unasked questions , you acknowledge in your quiet calm all the weak attempts at words stuck in my mouth...so i just hold you instead and hope you feel everything i want to say and all my selfish wishes.  all the silent prayers banging around in my head and all the deals I've made with God. i'm bargaining for more days and nights because I haven't had nearly enough of you . i'm still in love with that 18 year old girl who knew her way around this universe long before the rest of us could navigate what she had mastered... and kept me doubled over laughing as it all played out.

I am simply amazed and delighted to be watching the show. An endless parade of shiny stuff that dazzles me and leaves me giddy with expectation. I have front row seats ---hell, I'm IN this jaw dropping performance and i get to be the star .