While I wish it were 20 degrees warmer, I can't complain.
I'm barefoot, wearing a tee shirt listening to "The Boat Drunks", getting ready for Bar Church ... watching a Butterfly.The house is full of sleeping girls which makes me happy.
Goddess is laying under the table, snoring with my feet resting on her back.
The sun bubbles out of the ocean and rests in the hair of the Palm Tree with the oyster eyes, coconut bra and grass skirt. Golden rays burst out of the fawns blazing through the sliding glass doors into the kitchen where we sit.
The Butterfly remains content.
I am too.
Earlier this week Bill Berry ... not the former drummer for REM but the other one ... commented, "You've changed. You're not as intense ... not in a hurry ... and you've always been in a hurry ... you always had to be doing something."
"I guess," I cleverly reply.
He's right though.
Sarah tells me I don't have the fire I did years ago and she's right too.
Angry flames are now a slow, smoldering love affair.
Meandering to the window, I tap the glass and the Butterfly holds my stare.
"Let me take your picture," I say out loud, returning to the kitchen, retrieve my phone and laugh as I snap the photo.
"You're in no hurry today," I laugh, returning to my chair.
And I swear to God, I heard the Butterfly say, "It's nice isn't it?"
