What do you do when the breeze catches in your hair and snatches all of your thoughts away? Suddenly you are just a creature in the sun on the earth with nothing but the next meal on your mind.
Or you dive into cold water for the first time on a sunny June day and it instantly wicks all of your stress and heat and desire away?
Or what do you do when you walk down to a weedy neglected berry patch only to discover that the gods and good energies have been at work while you were away—blueberry bushes heavy with green jeweled berries waiting for more sun, more rain, more time to gain strength and plumpness? And bumble bees as thick as grapes hum from bloom to bloom working their magic?
What do you do when summer has arrived at last and every one of your senses are pried open once again and you wonder if you had really withered and curled so much that the smallest a bit of sun and rain makes you burst forth like a purple iris tall and stately on its stem.
What do you do when dark soil smells that good—dark, musky, rich with a billion microorganisms making all life possible?
What do you do when friends stop in to drink a glass of homemade wine and soak rice wrappers and roll the season’s first greens and cilantro, and you add garlic and shredded carrot to create a spring roll to die for?
What do you do?
Make no excuses for not posting last week. Make no excuses for full out pleasure of the moment.
Or fall on your knees in gratitude for a lovely world—and pull a few weeds while you are down.