This morning I awoke late to the mild nuisance of only one fly, instead of the hordes that have attended me since Carlos rolled in cow shit. (See “Carlos Brings Home Fly Nectar.”)
A light rain accompanied by the promise of harder rain — i.e. with lightning over the mountains, wind and the delicious smell of rain — moved in around 4. a.m. I jumped out, slammed the hatch, put up Carlos’ seat and called him in, and reached over Dwyn in the front seat to close all the automatic windows. Changing into a dry pajama shirt, I curled up and slept easily through sunrise and well into the morning.
I rise to a dry car, partially cloudy light skies and an enticing breeze that slides over my body like warm lotion on cool skin. I eat roasted nuts for breakfast, and I have enough money from the sale this weekend for a two or three days of essentials. I pause to punctuate my gratefulness for a day free of worries about hunger and running out of gas. I’m even able to forgive the few flies I spy crawling on Carlos (he must still have some scent about him that is delectable to flies, poor guy) that are soon flying around me and the car. They have to make a living, too.
All in all, a very nice way to start the day.