Day 657: Honeysuckle Kiss

A slightly subdued bunch of gratitude today, with my tail between my legs and mange starting to show, but a knowledge that it is all for the best, whether it feels like it or not, and that I am surrounded by some wonderful sisters and brothers who love me quite despite me and who see what sometimes I don't. 

And the water holds me with the same tenderness as it always does; the air invites itself into my lungs; light falls on my skin and the earth stays solid beneath my feet. Nothing shrinks away. It all stays constant. The geese harp at each other on the pond. The ducklings live their short and hazardous lives, some of them shorter and more fatally hazardous than others. Cars pack themselves tight one behind the other and people go about their business, purposefully or not. 

The honeysuckles break open their perfectly voluptuous petals to release their sweetness into the air and the buttercups grow tall in the bottom field where streams of women sit and let the beauty nourish them. Butter-chinned or not, we are united by this place.