To be Held.

Patches of sun and shade alternate space on the grass like quadrants on a quilt.

Or neighbors, who kindly but deliberately stop mowing the grass when they reach the border of what’s yours and theirs.

It’s summer, but it feels pleasant in the shade.

My shoes are off, and I’m in my hammock.

Just finished reading old writing samples in my journal, feeling relaxed, grateful.

A Sunday morning at Centennial Park.

Just me and my quadrants of sun and shade.

Light, dark.

Warm, cool.

Do you ever like to pretend you are the only one moving and alive in the whole world, just for a moment?

I think that is one of the best feelings sometimes.

Everything is still, peaceful, quiet,

Like you are floating in the air, right beside the moon.

I’ve been swimming a few times this summer at night, all by myself.

This is one of those times for me.

Just me and the moon.

The moonlight, my only light.

I come out of the water and I am cold for a second, but then I go back under to swim and I am warm.

Light, dark.

Warm, cool.

Nature always seems to hold me somehow.