Sunday Scribblings: Bed... (with a view).

I've been putting off the Sunday Scribblings prompts too often lately (this week's promt is "Bed"). I can never be sure of the true workings of my own mind, but I've come to the conclusion that it is either: A) because I haven't been in the right state of mind to write on the topic given and therefore write a bunch of crap that I later wish I hadn't posted; or B) I am sometimes blown away by the small treasures of writing that are written by others--which leaves me feeling intimidated and lacking confidence in my own writing abilities. Ugh. I'm getting sick of both feelings, but mostly the second one.

However, last night while sitting outside at 2 in the morning I found what felt like were the perfect words along the perfect mindset to write . Maybe I was tired or maybe it was the way the street light in the alley illuminated the feather tree (as though lit from within)--but something strangely wonderful happened as I sat there and observed the way that I was able to discern every sight and sound as a seperate and isolated sensation. There was a breeze blowing through the leaves causing the softest sound--one that can only be heard when the leaves are in their most perfect state of pliable. Each and every shift and movement of the night was distinct from the next. While wolfie dreamt sweet huffing dreams at my feet, I felt contained in a momentary bubble of magic. Unfortunately, by the time I made it to my computer to write it all down, exhaustion set in and sent it all slipping away like water under my feet. I gave into the sensation and crawled into bed, paying particular attention to its deliciousness on my skin.

This morning, after taking Anu for a walk, I putzed around our tiny little yard while she ate. Ever since Abe died, she loves to have company when she eats. I rigged up the hammock--one end to the feather tree and the other end (precariously) to the dog kennel. It smelled like Montana: of woodsmoke and sage. If a hammock can be considered a bed, then this is my new room and its view. Funny how, even in the daylight, this particular tree still holds such an infinate capacity for magic.