for the first ten minutes of my yoga practice
I hear Shelby scratching at the door, miaowing,
and then she stops;
afterwards I open the door and
there she is
waiting

my blurry morning eyes open to a dazzling light
beaming through the skylight
slowly my vision clears:
it is a perfect crescent moon

my unmade bed
its sheets still warm, the pillows squished,
invites me to crawl back in
I do, even though it's 7.10am and Tuesday is waiting

country market

a sliver of chocolate and ginger fudge
the aroma of freshly brewed coffee
fresh vegetables in a rainbow display
muddy grass beneath my jandalled feet
the happy strum of ukeleles
a feast for all five senses

the three of us huddle under the wide umbrella
but diagonal rainfall soaks our shoes, knees, shoulders;
in the dry comfort of the car
we sit for a while in our damp clothes
and watch raindrops race down the windscreen

fingers hit keys
black words appear on bright screen
I hit backspace to remove them
feeling uninspired and stuck
nothing flows

I drift in and out of sleep aware of a steady downpour
in the morning the world is clean and new and bright
grateful for the blessing of rain

gentle rain falling on a tin roof
why is it such a strange happy comforting sort of a sound?
I don't know but I love it

the full moon is obscured by cloud cover
I keep looking to see if it appears
and notice a bright glow,
like a lamp behind a curtain

about nineteen minutes into my walk
I am knocked over by a sweet fragrance
something like jasmine
but I can't see where it's coming from

an assembly of school children
- their cheerful singing fills the hall
tears gather at the rim of my eyes
goosebumps prickle my skin

half way home from lunch I realise I have left my mobile behind
and I spend the rest of the afternoon thinking life was so much simpler
before cell phones

I fill my basket with:
feijoas and fresh dates,
new season apples, nectarines and nashi,
a bag of brightly coloured capsicums,
and three sweetcorn cobs

snack

a bright red new season Royal Gala apple
sliced into sweet and crunchy segments

the washing hangs in a neat rainbow of colour
soaking up warm rays of March sunshine

red and white roses held together by a green ribbon
wrapped in black satin backed paper:
celebrating nine years of marriage

clumps of pink lilies scattered across a green field
like a discarded bouquet from yesterday's March wedding

through the window I can see
green bushes swaying in an afternoon breeze,
clouds gathering at the edge of a blue sky,
autumn sunlight casting shadow patterns across the back lawn

jam

a snake of cars inches slowly ahead of me as far as I can see
I give up all hope of reaching my class on time

the sky is bluer today, the sunlight brighter
I am seeing with new eyes and everything is becoming clearer

autumn blows in on a cold southerly breeze
summer leaves silently without fanfare or farewell

breakfast

an oaty waffle still warm from the waffle iron;
a drizzle of maple syrup
over sliced banana
topped with a dollop of cream

after devouring a tin of tuna for breakfast
Shelby sits next to her empty bowl hoping for a mid morning snack

 a blanket of grey cloud hovers over Friday
with not a breath of wind to blow it away

the scrunched-up wrapper from a snack bar lies
discarded on the lounge floor
I stifle my irritation and reach down to pick it up

red light up ahead
I prepare to stop
it miraculously changes to green and
I keep going

12.51pm

I light a candle and
for two minutes
pray for the people of Christchurch
and thank God for the steady ground on which I walk

faith

I turn on the tap
believing that clean cold water will pour forth
It does