Sunrise

I slammed open the door to meet the sun, and instead met my neighbor’s squirrel. He was perched between two tiny branches — leaning back like a Good Old Boy with a beer. Probably he (the squirrel) was munching on the feast of little green elm seeds. Not about to move. You can see him in the picture if you look closely, with his little round belly distended.

So I fetched my thick little alpaca rug that I bought at the Farmers’ Market and flattened it over the doorsill, and then I put my little meditation cushion on it and sat in the open doorway, crossed my legs, and watched the squirrel eating his breakfast as the sun rose behind the neighbor’s trees.

Time to go to work, I reluctantly picked up the cushion and put it away.

When I came back for the little rug, Bitsy was sitting where I had been — in perfect upright meditation poise, watching the squirrel eating his breakfast as the sun continued its never ending journey.

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