Young Simba has returned to live with me. It’s an adjustment for all but we are all starting to fall into a new rhythm.
dry land
In a pool a water, sits a tiny bit of dry land.
end of christmas
The last of the my christmas cactus blossoms have fully opened. The rest have already started to shrivel up and go limp. Still, the remaining blossoms overflow with pollen. It is beautiful. Just like the season of giving, the season of winter blossoms is coming to an end.
Fortunately, it seems that I have other blossoms in my future. My orchid has buds which are starting to swell. I can’t wait.
Evening commute
The cars are already stacking up by the time I make the mad dash for the office door. I’m lucky in that my commute is pretty darn short by area standards. For those in pharma/biotech, living where I do, it’s unheard of to work so close to home. In that sense, it’s a pretty good thing I’ve got going.
But there are days, when the work is tedious and mind numbing, and I wish I had the guts to look for something more challenging…and stable.
Then I get into my car and begin my drive home. I put on some good music and sing along or tune into public radio to get a little more up with the times. I look around as the sun begins to set and sky takes on lovely shades of pink and gray and everything in between.
poetic justice
Once upon a time, my eyes were described in a poem. “Green”, he wrote, “with hints of brown.” I held onto those words for years to come for nobody has written such words since then.
It has been a long, long time. I think now, if he were still alive and well, he might say they were green with a smattering of bloodshot red. But still, the way he said it so long ago is far more romantic and heartfelt.
