At dusk, we sat out, watching the arriving
Phoebe family feeding, the butterflies appearing, and then the neighborhood
bats sweeping through the descending darkness. Windows open, someone cooking a
delicious inspired meal, the gift of a slow meditative life, where sweeping the
floor becomes a simple puja , and hours are spent in quiet conversation,
holding hands, smiles, and me frontloading the guy with brilliant nourishing
healing building stuff.
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