A moment in time

I rise each morning with hobbled knees, cramped feet, and rubber legs. I draw a breath of the sweet Delta air and give thanks.  Whether to the universe, a divine being, or the persistence of my own good luck, I offer more than one mumbled phrase as I boil the water and seep the grounds.

On my front porch, in pajamas, robe, and slippers, I lift my face to the tender rays of sunlight. I strain to follow the trill and warble of birds flitting from branch to bough in the meadow.  

On the drive to town, I slow to watch the broad pan of hawks across the pale sky.  Along the empty highway, egrets pick their way through a stubbly field.   The river runs beneath the bridge and drifts toward the sea.  A small boat rises and falls with its constant current.

Reversing course in the afternoon, I pass a flock of sheep gathered near the levee, shorn of their winter coats.  Then I brake.  I slowly lift my camera, one eye on the side view mirror, the other squinting overhead.  I nearly make the shot.  Close enough, I deem; slightly blurred, but nonetheless a testament, documentary evidence of my most opportune timing.  Like the awestruck object of Jenny’s sudden kiss, I demand my tribute:   I once lingered here; and in the moment, I saw this sight; and I will be forever changed.

It’s the twenty-seventh day of the seventy-sixth month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.

2 thoughts on “A moment in time

  1. Kristan Walden

    You pay the Delta a fitting tribute. Since I have resigned myself to the fact that I am never to be blessed by living on the Delta, again, your telling of the ever changing experiences on our beloved Delta, allows me to dream along with you, filling the empty places in my mind, where my own memories long to live.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *