Afternoon Observations

An ant circles me, quick on hot pavement. Perhaps she imagines we will be friends. I have shooed her away many times, but have yet to squash her. I think this has made her brave. I watch her wander about my driveway. I am seated with the sun on my back, an umbrella for this ant should she be searching for shade.

In the distance, a bird chatters on a loop. Others sign back and forth is tones as sweet as the cricket in the grass nearby. Wind rustles leaves, cars whoosh by and the wheelbarrow stands empty.

I am of a mind to do nothing other than drink my tea, but the insects want to play. I do not feel like dancing despite the invitation of spiders and flies. But to go inside is to part from the sun.

I love this patch of earth and everywhere it stretches, even beyond what I can see. I love the bee who flies repeatedly into the wall on an errand for his queen. I love the shadows of the walnut leaves when the wind breathes.

Bare feet.

Bare legs.

And beyond today, the splashes of water, the frozen treats. The dirt climbing up to kiss my lips.