A feathering of light is dusting up some pleasing green on the backs of trees. Magnolia trees on the boulevard remind me of music, a song. “Magnolia, you sweet thing…”
A young girl from the twenties cycles by, straight back and arms on a big-hooped bike. Tweed jacket, jumpers, and white scarf floating below-pined up hair.
Across the street a small brick shop called Lifestyle Markets stays closed.
We observe. We dream. We long.
I return to the weight of return. My mind, already on the plane. So much for mindfulness.
Everything in me yearns for more of that early resplendent sun on my face. A dusting of restive light. More.