illuminated.

it's been hot and muggy in tennessee.

last night i got out of bed to turn off the a.c. and open up the bathroom window.

when i did, i had to reach out and touch the screen;

it looked like there was nothing separating me from the night air.

i leaned my chin onto the windowsill and saw that it looked like the dandelions

were glowing in the dark.

a big tree in the neighbor's yard was illuminated by a porch light.

aside from the quiet stream of crickets and birdsong, my backyard was quiet.

a sky that normally carries the raucus of army aircraft

(that andy always identifies for me)

was still.

the smell of the window screen reminded me of my childhood.

the smell of the fresh lotion on my hands reminded me of time spent in guatemala.

and the smell of the cool night air was divine.

several worlds colliding.

{eventually, i want to settle down in a place where the smells

outside the windows & doors are enough to make you stay.}

the whole yard was peaceful.

a yard that used to keep me up at night with its unrecognizable noises & sounds.

{i was sure there was an unknown neighbor creeping around,

or at least something to be on alert for.}

it was unfamiliar and new territory.

and now, when i've realized there's nothing to be afraid of--

that it's just a comfortable, lived in place to call home--

it's time to move on.

....

(image found here)