I Am Home

This place dreams me into perfection, setting the scene with mountains dressed in a million shades of green and festooning them with clouds of every sort. Butterflies float across my yard in silent prayers of thanksgiving. I love the deep purple bush that calls to them. It becomes a haven for all things seeking the sweetness of life and I am one of them.

Chauncey is frightened by the kennel down the hollow, but is learning that whatever lies down there cannot touch us here in our little bit of heaven. We do not even need curtains on the windows. Our green toile valences are simply frames for the beauty that flows softly by on the mountain breeze.

My books are on the shelves, my turtles climb out of their packing crates and seek their places in curio cabinets and on tables, and my tiny refrigerator hums away until its bigger brother comes next week.

I am home.