TWILIGHT

 Twilight. I had to be there. Dragged a very heavy kitchen chair, one I found in the far reaches of the neighborhood, with a cushion tied on yet, and sat right down on the walkway that led to my house. My house. My House.

I am old enough now to own a house. Sat and watched what was going on. Nothing really. A woodpecker noisily tap tap tapping on the very end of a telephone pole. How I smiled a wide  smile inside. Cars drove by seeking home. Long black cars like hearses with small drivers at the wheel.

And I had just walked all around the block, first time in weeks, since I injured my painful left leg, no bruises showed but how long can you baby it?

Everything looks beautiful, familiar, filled with colors. Oh, yes, that house, I do remember. Two women sitting on the porch chatting. Wish I could do that, but I haven't a porch. Just this little walkway that I am content with.

Bill Adams, wide Bill Adams, backs his new white Toyota station wagon into his drive. He mowed the lawn today and left the grass trimming lying in the street, dying slowly.

I picked a piece of peppermint mingled in with the hasta and fothergilla and smelled it between my fingers. Soon the golden wasp appeared. That is where beauty was to be found. Imagine! A golden wasp like in a book of fairy tales. Beatriz of course would know exactly what it was. 

And the wonderful smell of mulch put down yesterday by Galbally Landscapers just around the corner. I can still smell it inside as I sip my tea. 

Locked the screen door and came in. Ruefully. Boiled some water in my Bradford Tea Kettle, then eyed the many teas I have and selected a huge green box, magnificent green like the leaves outside, of TETLEY green decaffeinated tea.

Now I sip. Sip and watch outside. Fireflies. On off, on off, on off. They go by and so do headlights of all these huge cars which all look black in the night.

This is where I live. Cowbell Road. Can you hear the lowing of the cows that once lived here? Feel their soft overcoat. Folks do not have cows as pets. Dogs like Kalie across the street, yes, for sure, and that Cayenne who Bill Adams wants to bond with him like Man and Dog.

Would I like Cayenne? Nay. 

The tea tastes good. Fresh. Tea leaves from far away. Bombay? A tea growing peninsula? I do exercises outside in the kitchen chair. Arms up for shoulders. Leg kicks for weak hips. Miss hitting a mosquito by a mile. Finally stand up. Is there water in the bird bath?

Yes, a bird I do not recognize who looks like an all black cardinal or maybe it is a crow, is flapping its feathers in there.

Anything to watch on the telly? Sip and watch and wish you had hard Tavenor's drops with powdered sugar like days of yore.