just another rainy sunday in june

raindrops on the terrace roof.
a special quality of light - summer light, even tho' it's cloudy.
it has a greenish cast to it, as the trees drink in the needed rain.
kittens racing around, tumbling.
a mug of steaming tea and a fresh, light bun slathered in butter.
a moment of quiet contentment. 
the day hasn't yet really begun.

i need this moment.

the days start to feel busy, rushing headlong into one another.

as my calendar fills up.

in a good way, as the projects are now of my own choosing.

a photo class for kids at the library.

helping shape a new school.

writing about travel.

editing a book.

sharing a bit of my culture.

being part of creating new surroundings for the culture where i live.

just being more solidly where i am.

and always time with a horse.

it's the healthiest time.

and the greatest gift you can give your child.

because you can't fool a horse.

it knows if you're scared.

or if you're trusting.

or if you're bluffing.

they can just see right through to you.

the real you.

you can't hide from a horse.

and as always, dreaming of what's next.

a refuge in the garden.

a long, narrow, rustic building,

where the light floods in from windows along both sides.

but a safe, dark cocoon in which to work at one end.

and room for a long table.

where we could have meetings,

and not be ashamed to invite people from outside.

reshaping what an office means.

i'm unused to a full calendar.

and that means i mess things up sometimes.

like yesterday, when we showed up for a wedding at 2 p.m.

and found out it had started at 1 p.m.

and all that was left at the church was the rice on the ground.

i was very surprised and a little embarrassed.

but i find myself laughing about it now.

if you throw a whole lot of balls up in the air,

you're bound to drop a couple of them.