Beauty

Yvonne came to be my first guest in my new home. As a house warming present she brought a beautiful hibiscus plant with large deep red flowers. We planted it on the side of the front yard, where we'll be able to see it when I eventually get some porch furniture. Since Vonnie had attended a conference in New Jersey with the plant in the car, it was a little worse for wear and I've been fussing about it since it went into the ground on Friday. The hot weather has not helped, and the flowers that were on the plant have all drooped and died. Grimly, I cut off the dead heads.

But this morning, I came outside to be greeted by a big fat beautiful red flower. A new bud had blossomed and I could see more buds were in the works. A fine house-warming indeed.

And tonight, as I walked back to the house from my back alley, I looked up and saw a big fat beautiful nearly full orange moon. Not off-white or yellow, but orange. Don't know why. I had missed the lunar eclipse from last night - the sky was too overcast - but tonight made up for that.

Another discomfort I've been dealing with these past days is a terrible toothache - bad enough that I finally made an appointment with a dentist.  And if you understood how much pain I can put up with you'd know it was bad for me to actually make the appointment.  As I suspected, I needed a root canal.  I'd never had one before; all I know about them is that those who have had them hate them.  But my dentist said don't worry; they only hurt if the dentist doesn't do it right and that she would do it right.  I trusted her and at any rate, I had no choice.

So this afternoon I had my first (and hopefully last) root canal and aside from the chunk it took out of my wallet it was almost entirely painless.  With my mouth no longer screaming at me I left her office quite content and proceeded to walk the 2-1/2 blocks back to my office (how's that for convenience?), reveling in the novelty of painlessness.  And as I was waiting for the light to turn I noticed one of those fuzz balls - don't know what plant it's from - that float around DC certain times of year.  It glided through the air like Glinda the good witch, coming slowly yet directly right at me.  Normally if I try to catch one of these fuzz balls, they will dart away, carried by the air.  But this one came right at me, and as I cupped my hands in front of my solar plexus, it glided gently into place as if that's where it was aiming to be.  

I feel more centered than I have in a long time.

General Assembly, where UUs from all across the country - all across the world, actually - is an exciting time.  There are workshops and visiting booths and shopping and plenary (internal business) sessions and satellite meetings and public witness events and catching up with old friends and making new ones.  And for some of us, also staffing the booth and attending meetings and making announcements.  

In short, GA is exciting and also overwhelming.  Not conducive to taking the time to breathe, let alone celebrate the summer solstice.  But as it was, the longest day of the year fell during GA.  And Mer and I decided to take some time off to go outside the convention center and pay our respects to the sun.

She had been running earlier so she knew the neighborhood around the Portland Convention Center better than I.  We walked a couple of blocks to the bank of the river, and there, over-looking the water, was a giant peace sign made of grass and flowers.  We strolled into the very center of the circle, looking at the sunlight reflecting off the water, then turned and faced each other.  I read a short piece from our hymnal.  And then we stood there, in the bright warmth.... surrounded by flowers, in the heart of peace.  

I remember it being quiet, but it couldn't have been, could it?  With all the bicyclists and people walking by, having fun.

On the way back to the convention center was an empty lot, filled with wildflowers.  (So not so empty after all.) Wild colors. And then it was back into the concrete cavern for the rest of the day.  But that seemed to make the moment of sunshine even brighter in my mind.

Hope everyone had a wonderful Summer Solstice.

or in that vicinity...

Man, what a long day at work today.  Thinking that I would be taking off early to have coffee with my former boss/still current friend, Joe, I went into the office about two hours early.  I'm not an early morning kind of person in the first place but this morning was particularly drizzly and dreary.  

Then along 17th St, I noticed a rainbow flag.  Not all that unusual in this part of town (Dupont Circle).  Half a block later on the other side of the street, a restaurant had tied six huge streamers - red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple - from one point on the grill of a second story window, and then fanned them out downwards to the outer patio railing.  The result was a fantastic triangular canopy under which the diners would be able to sit.  Contrasting with the grey sky, it was even more breathtaking.  That's when it occurred to me that it's Pride Week in DC.

A partly rainy/partly sunny morning is the kind of time one would expect to see rainbows, and I saw a lot of them.

It turns out that Joe's flight was canceled, which meant traveling headaches for him and no coffee with Joe for me.  Instead, it wasn't until dusk that I left the office.  The evening walk back along 17th was very different from the morning.  For one thing, evening light is very different from morning light.  For another, many more shops and homes had put up their Pride decorations.   Rainbows burst from many a window, flagpole and railing.  Passing by the same restaurant, I realized that what I had seen this morning was an unfinished product.  Colored streamers of six hues now wove in and out of the patio railing to form a rainbow fence.  Gone was the delicate canopy, lost in the addition of more streamers and lights.  Instead of nature's rainbow, I was now thinking Disneyland.  But otoh, with the twinkly Christmas lights, it was a festive place to dine.  Certainly, the patrons seemed happy.

About a block later, I realized that other lights were twinkling as well.  Tonight, I spotted my first fireflies of the season.  Several of them, flashing bright in the growing darkness.**  No matter how many more years I live, I will never cease to be amazed by fireflies.

**Ironically, the fireflies reminded me even more of Disneyland.  Growing up in California, I did not see my first real firefly until well into adulthood, which is why I'll never take them for granted.  The only inkling I had of what a firefly was like was from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney.  The first time I saw a real one (and almost every time since), my first reaction was that nature reminded me of artifice.  Yes, I know it's perverse.