Remembering . . .

Happy to return to attentive meditation after more than a month off.

Many things to write about in Ft.Lauderdale, FL, where I was tending grandchildren . . . like the masses of noisy green parrots in Sarah's neighborhood that have been multiplying in that tropical climate since the zoo aviarium was ravaged in one of the big hurricanes of the 80's (Andrew? Opal?);like the bird-sized brown lizards as common as robins that deck the decks there, how they run upright on hind legs looking like sparrows to the inattentive; like the tiny live lizard we chased from a corner in Makayla's room and later found dead; like the dog-sized iguanas that lurk by the creek near Thad's office and peer from the vegetation with prehistoric drama; like the canopy of unusual (that is, unknown to my experience) trees that arch the streets in Sarah & Thad's hot, humid, green, tropical but urban neighborhood; like the thousands---not an exaggeration---truly thousands of raptors that loom over the landfill mountain beside I-75, gradually darkening the sky as you near it, shocking you by their numbers, varieties, shades, wingspans, and eeriness as you pass by it, thinning as you leave it behind . . . with nothing like an hour-a-day to thoroughly describe any of them . . . not with two lively pre-schoolers, laundry, cooking, shopping, and housekeeping for a busy young family. That I have, in semi-retirement, the luxury of time to be intentionally "mindful" of the surprises of nature is an appreciation not lost on me when I visit my daughter's young family . . . and remember another such family twenty-five years ago.