Long time friendships with deep roots in the heart are treasure. Tonight, hours sitting on the porch talking deep and wide with a friend of 25 years (in this lifetime and probably many more years over many lifetimes). We have journeyed through many seasons, parted ways, reunited, parted--winding, braided paths. Now we land again in Love, recognizing again, with more veils lifted, a companion soul.

There is a species of moth able to detect a mate's aroma at a distance roughly the equivalent of that between New York and Boston.  

Amazing, the perfection and intricacies of this remarkable Creation of which we are each a part.

No small thing: Shelter.

There's a big old soft sofa that was meant for the living room but couldn't make it through the narrow farmhouse doors even with doors lifted off their hinges and framing dismantled. So that big sofa stayed out on the narrow screened porch.

Tonight like the past two, I am bedding down here, not wanting to distance myself from the soft rains and the chanting of the tree frogs. A roof over my head. A comforter to wrap myself in. Pure water to drink. Quiet. Safety. The night's beauty. And to top it off, the magical luminescence of lightening bugs. A plethora of blessing.

I wish safe shelter for all. Clean air. Good water. Hunger appeased. Love.

About Callings

From "Callings," by Gregg Levoy:
"...Nikos Kazantzakis, author of "Zorba the Greek," described an incident in which he came upon a cocoon cradled in the bark of an olive tree just as the butterfly was making a hole and attempting to emerge. Impatient for results, he bent over it and warmed it under his breath, by which he succeeded in speeding up the process. The butterfly, however, emerged prematurely, its wings hopelessly crumpled and stuck to its own body, which needed the sun's patient warmth, not the man's impertinent breath, to transform it..."