Still Here

I'm still here, still at home.  I go to the grocery store with gloves, wipes, and now a mask.  I go to see my parents.  And that is it.  The rest of the time, I am here at home.  My routine is still there but tends to be sliding down a bit.  My  morning coffee is now two cups of coffee.  My 8:00 walk is usually a 9:00 or 9:30 walk.  Time has little meaning any longer because there is just so much of it.  I do my outside stuff in the morning because. like it or  not, spring has sprung and in Florida, that means 80+ degree temperatures in the afternoon.  So walk and garden in the morning, read or write in the afternoons.  But then that late afternoon lag hits and what to do?  Time is for filling, filling between breakfast and lunch and lunch and dinner.  But what if I eat lunch at 11 or 11:30 instead of noon?  What if I eat dinner at 5 instead of 6?  Time is still there and waiting to be filled. 

The little things become big.  Hummingbirds, butterflies, and cardinals flitting by become an event.  The young family that lives near-by on their daily walks are something for your eyes to follow for several minutes and remember when that was you.  The search for grasshopper larvae is now in the daily schedule.  My focus is still external - the darkening of the tree leaves, the little bunny hopping around the yard,  and the buds that are blooming.  I am grateful, deeply grateful for all these things that can occupy my mind and bring me back to the gift of simplicity.  I am here in the now.  I am home.  I am safe. I am well.