Taking time to breathe

It is a gorgeous day, here in Charlotte, NC. After several hours of ninety degree weather, the evening has brought with it some much needed rain and relief from the heat. It is almost 8:30pm and I am sitting in a lawn chair in my second floor balcony (first floor for those who live on the other side of the world), reveling in how large the balcony is (I live in a one bedroom apartment and my balcony is easily the best part. Of course the large closet, the huge bathroom and the almost floor to ceiling length windows in the living and dining area are pretty nice too. But the best part is the large balcony that faces the woods). The weekend has been slow and almost relaxing and I don't have my usual Sunday night blues. I have spent the better part of the last hour watching changing color of the evening. The sky very slowly darkened from a beautiful bright blue to a gorgeous gray with streaks of pink and orange from the setting sun to the eventual deep inky blue of the night. The various shades of green of the trees in the dense woods slowly changed into dark indistinguishable shapes looking like shadows cast by a master puppeteer sitting unseen somewhere high up in the sky, just to play with my mind and toy with my imagination.

The last traces of light have gone from the sky but the moon has not put in an appearance yet. It is far too cloudy to see any stars tonight. It is a typical muggy Carolina summer night; I am being bitten by bugs that I am not able to see, there are leaves (courtesy of the winds that accompany the summer rain) strewn all over my balcony (I should probably sweep the balcony one of these days), but the hour that I have spent out here has been the most peaceful and relaxing break I have had in the last month (or maybe longer). There are things to be done, laundry to be folded, mailed to be sorted, house to be cleaned, emails and phone calls to return, but at this moment, none of those matter. At this moment, I am the only person in the world and at this moment, this is the only place on earth. Before I finish the thought, the relative quiet of the night (I say relative because the sound of the air conditioning units is a constant accompaniment. And until several weeks ago, so were the sounds of the cicadas) is broken by the sound of  a car  pulling into a parking spot in front of my balcony. It's my downstairs neighbor, grumpy sort of a fellow. Always dresses the same and always has his head purposefully down even as I pull up into a parking spot, two feet away from where he usually is, smoking in his verandah (or deck). And I used to think that I was anti-social. I smile at everyone. Mostly.

If this were 20 years ago (when I was only 10 years old -gosh, I feel old just saying that), I would have been terrified at the sight of the dense thicket of trees. Even in the daytime (the fear of the unknown - God only knows what lurks within the woods), but now, the trees draw me to them, at all times of the day and night. I gone out to my balcony well past midnight, several nights, just to stand and stare at the trees (God only knows what mysteries lie behind those trees). Twenty years ago, I would have drawn the curtains before the sun set, so I would not have to look at something I was afraid of (Even though back then, I didn't know what it was that I was afraid of. Now, I know that it was just the fear of the unknown), now my shades are always open in the living and dining areas and I keep my bedroom shades open at night, so the sight of the dark shapes, gently swaying in the breeze can put me to sleep (Take that all ye cousins! All your "true stories" about ghosts in my backyard have not scarred me for life). In reality, nothing dramatic ever happens behind the thick curtain of trees, except for the occasional distant neighbor walking their dog. One time, when I pulled into my parking spot along the low wall separating the property from the woods, I heard a slight rustling sound. It was 2:00am and obviously there was no one else around. Luckily our property is well lit and there is a single lamp between the wall and the fence. As I waited and looked around, I saw a pair of shining eyes, looking out at me from the trees.I could make out the graceful outline of the deer, standing no more than three feet away from me, with their ears perked.waiting to see what I would do. I guess, they sensed that I was of no danger to them (they are probably used to people by now) and the gracefully loped away before I could whip out my handy cell phone camera to take a picture.

It is at times like these, when my mind and heart are at peace that the smell of the earth and color of the sky remind me that life is ephemeral.And beautiful. And that beauty can be found in most simple, unplanned moments. And that I have been truly blessed that I have been able to experience some of those elusive moments in my life.

I'm not inclined to resign to maturity

If anyone could ever be described as risk-averse in this world, it would me. I fit the description completely. And yet, against better judgement and common sense I go and make the biggest and riskiest move of my lifetime. The weird thing is, I am not even freaking out about it. Not yet anyway. Sometimes I wonder why I do the things I do. On the other hand, things were in motion for this event 3 years ago or quite possibly even 6 years ago. However, what is life, if you don't undertake a few risky ventures? No guts no glory, right? I hope so. On the other hand, its almost the weekend. And that is always a good reason to smile.