and it felt like healing .

my thursday was made of these :

i woke up this morning & watered my garden .  stood in the grass & marveled at how much of a wee crop i suddenly have for harvesting .

i hopped on the train, south to downtown where i sang a few songs for the ravishers set in pioneer square .

i walked to the post office to check my mailbox, which was empty . that’s okay . but i will insert a sidenote :  if you write me a letter, i’ll write you back  .   it’s true  .

back on the train, destined northerly, a return to my neighborhood, where i strolled to new seasons market to pick up a few things :   avocados, peaches, and the most glorious raspberries .  they’re all dressed up in blue & i adore it  .

oh grateful me .

somewhere along the way it i realized that this thursday is a marvelous portland concoction .

& somewhere in my steps on the sidewalk, i was reminded of this annie dillard quote :   how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives .

&  i would venture to say that how we spend our moments is how we spend our days .

simple joys     .

to be noticed    .
& relished    .