I just had one of those incredible sequences of moments that always seem choreographed… you feel them coming, and while they are happening, you think, “I couldn’t have written this.”
About a half hour ago I got a compulsion to get the mail. I also knew that I had to put on something that showed who I was. I found this instruction mystifying, but complied. It took about 15 minutes, and three clothes changes. Finally I passed critical muster, and I was carried, as if on air, through the door, through the gate, across the yard, and to the mailbox. And then, looking around, I found a package behind the fence, and another one in a basket by the door. They felt like Easter Eggs, like lagniappe, like gifts from the morning.
I had forgotten the mysterious questy feeling that sent me outside, being distracted by the mail (I have a mind like a squirrel) but as I started to walk back around to my gate I was silently turned around with a NOT YET FIND SOMETHING TO DO FOR A MINUTE, and so I set the mail down, and picked up the hose to water the front garden, which was almost thirsty anyway.
I watered everything, and even rinsed the bedroom window and the front step, and nothing happened, and I was on my way back to my back garden when I got turned around again, THAT TREE OVER THERE BY THE STREET LOOKS THIRSTY.
So I turned the water back on and went out as far as I could with it, and I stood there like a total random, holding the fully extended, cut-off hose, no longer quite long enough to properly reach the tree, communing with the hoary old pine, itself stuffed with hummingbirds.
And then I looked up, and there was a tiny, elderly woman walking with great determination down the street, and I said, “Hello”, and with no preamble, she immediately walked directly to me, and started speaking as if we were old friends. She reminded me of Ruth Gordon, playing Maude, in the great film Harold and Maude.
I won’t tell you what she said, because it doesn’t matter.
What matters is that we took each other’s hands, as after 20 minutes we said goodbye, and as we smiled at each other, and physically connected, we locked in our intersection in the fabric of spacetime, and now our webs of light are interlocked in the net that surrounds Terra. I could feel universes flowing together as I looked into her laughing blue eyes. I’m sure we would both have been burnt as witches in short order in the correct time period.
Anyway, for whatever reason, I understood that I was herded out to the mailbox to connect with this human, and I was happy that I waited for the train to come into the station, grateful for the turnarounds, the nudges. My eyes could never show me the road I would have to have traveled to connect with everything I became part of when I took her hand, or what might have been missed if I wasn’t listening; the fabric of our reality is woven in an underlayer that we are not able to observe, only visualize.
Human by human, we lock together with joy, acting out the dance of reconnection.
Also: The scent of grapefruit blossoms, a pair of curve-billed thrashers, kicking up fun in the tendrils that flow onto the garden from the Creeping Fig. The star jasmine and the huge palo verde tree, beginning to bloom.