Hummingbirds click-click outside my open window, and mourning doves flush to the roof at any lift of a tree branch or perhaps the suggestion of a cat. I am breathing.
Too many projects flying in weighted trajectories that cross and inevitably intersect, flying just ahead of deadlines and higher demands. It is the nature of the work.
But today I am in between, glad for the shift of air, the mix of gray that is the sky and the company of a green parakeet who sits on my shoulder and speaks a mix of childish rhetoric and a sailor's blue streak.
Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is still a day away.
Sherri
